May 3 - Why clip the lid?

When I go to a Vancouver Giants game - and unlike another local team, this one can finish a game - this is what the guy in the seat next to me has to look through to watch the far end. For his sake alone, for next season, I have to ditch the hair. [Mind you, if I was on the PP with the Sedins, Giguere wouldn't see anything coming.]

It wasn't always this way. In the past, I have had short or short-ish hair. My last trim was Christmas Day, 2005. I figured I'd look my best for the family dinner. But in the cold wetness that is Vancouver in January, apathy set in and I stopped bothering to go through the once-a-week ritual of getting out the clippers, setting them at 1/4 inch, leaning over the tub and trimming the hedge.

By the time spring came, my wife figured there was something amiss, especially given that I'd stocked up on shampoo. Then came baseball season; hair stuck out from under the cap, but not so long that it made people concerned. People didn't seem concerned; after all, at the Nat I was known for some ludicrous antics and appearances. But when the school year started, and I didn't bother to get rid of it, that's when concern turned to anguish, as it appeared that I was regressing back to the 1980s. What scared everybody was that they didn't know if I was going to go Ratt or Thompson Twins.

But there was always a plan. By September 2006 I already had 5 inches of length up top, and since any haircut would be noticed, I thought I'd go for the spectacular and let it all shag out. Then, I'd donate it to the Cancer Society and the wig program. It accomplishes two things:

- philanthropy - a good deed

- a last kick at the can of long hair before 40

So I'm taking the time to do a good thing for a good cause. Hey, everyone benefits: my wife gets her normal husband back; the Cancer Society gets a load of hair and some extra money; my school gets back an instructor they no longer have to arrange visitors around; and I'll be able to see when I teach.

I can be a grown-up starting next year.

Rob