Dang! I'm Feeling Light Headed! Who Stole My Hair?

Rabbi Lang was there for the swearing in of the new mayor, city clerk, and the one out of two coucilmen who could prove that he was actually a city resident. Several clergy of various faiths said prayers, but as I looked at the rabbi I thought "Al, if you ever do decide to put on a yarmulke you'll need two dozen hair clips to keep it in place and a couple of ounces of lead sinkers to hold it down!" Time for a hair cut! The last one was the end of October, just before I got the photo for my new eight year drivers license.

Vivette gave me a great haircut. There sure was a lot of hair on that floor! On the way home I noticed that a couple of the council candidates in the recent election had yet to clear the city of their campaign signs. I think the law says that they have something like two weeks to do it before code enforcement is supposed to cite them. I'll have to check that out tomorrow...LOL

When I Still Had A Beard...

Penny Valentine at the Chamber of Commerce HATES it when I have a beard. Claudia, my ex, hates it when I "need" a haircut. I'd started growing the beard a year ago when my son Jonathan showed up wearing one. As for the hair, I thought that all of those curly locks looked kind of neat. So do a lot of women. Women I have a better chance of scoring with than the ex-wife for sure!

Then when I shaved off the beard and dropped by the Chamber of Commerce it took awhile for Penny to even notice. Claudia though knew about the haircut before hand. She called up to make the appointment.

These new flat screen TV's are over at North Miami City Hall so folks in the back rows or in the lobby can get a better view during council and board meetings.

Crap! I Just Might Have To Get A Haircut

Councilman Scott Galvin said that he was going to introduce a resolution at the next city council meeting to give us poor starving advisory board members our first raise since 1961. I've been going all over town telling people that there's just no way that I'm going to squander two months pay on a haircut. As Judy Feldman told me Saturday "What! You mean that they're still paying the same $10 that they were 35 years ago when you and I were on the planning commision together?"

"Yup, still ten bucks" I said. "That's absolutely rediculous!" she replied.

Well, tomorrow night is the council meeting, and I've been sitting here scheming, thinking of people who might be talked into running against the incumbants next year, and contemplating ways to assure the success of The Revolution if it has to come to that. Hell, I just might tell a group of already organized people "YES! I will run for mayor!" Then I could afford a haircut. The mayor and council just gave themselves a huge raise and a ton of generous benefits. I might even be able to start dating again without having to do it Dutch Treat.

Love Hurts ~ Learning To Hate

I met that woman standing in the center of the photograph seventeen years ago. I was 48, alone, and I'd placed a personal ad in The Miami Herald. This was a few years before the internet took over the dating scene. She answered the ad and we got together a few days later. We dated for about a year, then I moved into her house. I got along fine with her younger son. We both loved to fish.

The older one was a bit of a problem though, with the underlying feeling that if his mom and I weren't living together she'd go back with his dad. This persisted long after he'd remarried. I put up with it, though, figuring that the boy would soon be off to college. It didn't happen. Then after ten years of what I thought was a pretty damned good relationship, out of the blue she asked me to move out.

But she wouldn't let go. She'd call me every morning to find out how I was. She'd remind me when I needed a haircut. She wanted to go out to dinner every Saturday night, although she insisted on paying her own way. Her brother, who is my accountant, kept telling me to "hang in there, she still loves you". Well I still loved her. And her now adult sons were still living in her house. After five years I finally asked her to come and live at my house. The answer was no.

A psychiatrist friend of mine told me that the only way I could get past loving her was to learn to hate her. I stopped seeing her, talking to her, dropping by her shop, everything. Still, it's not easy learning how to hate somebody. A year or so went by. In all that time I hadn't had a decent haircut. I'd grown a beard and let my hair grow for about six months. My ex wife, still a good friend of mine as well as best friends with the former girlfriend told me that I "look like a street person", her way of translating from her native German a phrase meaning "homeless bum". She called and made the appointment.

There was a lot of trepidation as I went to her salon. We didn't kiss and embrace at the door like we once did. We exchanged a few pleasantries about our kids. I got a fantastic haircut and she trimmed my beard. For the next few days I felt depressed but I can't seem to hate her. I knew at that point that I still loved her. I haven't seen or spoken with her since.