Curly thoughts for an evening

Strange thoughts in my head tonight - some are so deep I can't get them all clarified on paper (on screen - whatever), while others go off the top they are so shallow.  Since I feel like a few minutes of entertainment, we're going with shallow.

Because, I just looked up over the top of my glasses and saw all these wild little curls hanging down over my forehead.  I'm going to get my hair cut next Tuesday - it's been getting pretty long.  I seem to obsess about this mop on the top of my head way too much.  I didn't always love my curls.  They just drove me crazy.  I always wanted long, thick, straight hair - you know that beautiful stuff that simply shines?  Yah ... never had it.  I can remember when Carol and I were very young.  We would drape towels over our heads and fling them like they were long hair.  Oh, both of us were desperate for it, but no ... both of our parents had curly hair, we were sunk.

For some reason or other, my hair flattened out last year - it got so dry with all of that terribly dry weather.  I was thrilled with the humidity and the fact that my curls popped again this year.  Carol was complaining about how out of control hers was and all I could do was be thankful for crazy curls again.  I actually have grown to love it.  It's so much more fun this way.

Looking back at my school pictures - mom obviously just cut my hair short to keep the curls from attacking.

I can't believe I don't have a photograph to show, but mom had done a sculpture of me in about fifth grade and my hair was pretty tame, just a few waves.

Something happened as I got older.  By the time I got to Sigourney in junior high, my hair had gotten much curlier and probably a little more out of control. 



Back then there was a Saturday morning cartoon show about the Hair Bear Bunch.  It didn't take long for me to get a nick name.  I was soon called "Hair Bear."  It stuck with me all through high school.  Well ... most of it stuck.  (I really don't ever remember that my hair was in an afro.  Oh well)  Pretty soon, people just called me "Bear."  Let me tell you, when I hear that name, I am thrust immediately back to school days.  Fortunately, there aren't too many of those friends that still remember to use that nickname.

I didn't know what to do with my hair for most of high school, so I choose ... the 'shag' haircut.  Oh yah ... I was styling.  What in the world is a girl with hair that curls supposed to do if she wants it long?  This is what she does:

Now, that's some good lookin' hair - right there.

Ok ...  here I am, curls and all.  I love them now - but then, I've had 'em for fifty years, I suppose I've grown accustomed to them. 

And now, it's time for me to dive back into the serious stuff.  Oh ... my poor brain.  It had fun with the curls!