Hairy Scary: Photos from the Drafter Salon

Hair style has never been my strong suit. Recently, my mom cleaned out her basement and came across my K-12 school photos, leaving no doubt that my "style" is unrelated to the recent closing of salons. Undoubtedly, the chlorinated pool where I spent the better part of my early years did not tip the scales in my favor.  Walking to school in 4th grade, I was attacked by a red-winged black bird who claimed the straw on my head for his nest.  Surviving the BIG HAIR 80s as a teenager was painful.  Perms weren't really a good option.  Thanks to the chemical combination of chlorine and farm well-water, perms left my hair a very unnatural and unsettling shade of orange (and once purple).  My hopes were raise in college when a teammate promised that product would make it come to life.  Defeated after much product, rollers and a curling iron, she said, "I'm sorry.  There is nothing I can do." A conversation at age 29 is not one to forget: (Stylist) "Your hair will really thicken up when you start taking pre-natal vitamins." (BrickO) "I am taking pre-natal vitamins."  (Stylist) "Oh.  Well, when you get pregnant, your hair will really be full."  (BrickO) "I am 3 months pregnant".  (Stylist) "Oh."   Many have tried and failed.Over the decades, I have come to terms with my fine, thin, straight, drab dishwater color, lifeless hair.  And by that, I mean I have as many hats as I do bikes.  After all, it's just hair, right?  I have a strong motor, good treads on the tires, an electrical system that only short circuits occasionally- who needs the fancy finishes?   I would check the box for the upgrade if available, but it's not.  And, for the first time EVER, I'm actually grateful for what sits on my head.  Since there is no salon that can improve my hair lot in life, there is nothing about closure of the salons during the pandemic that can make it worse.  My hair could be the only thing thriving (relatively speaking).The inspiration for this soliloquy comes from you, my fellow Drafters.  I feel your pain. Thank you for joining me. Phew.  That's a half hour of entertainment (for myself). Keep those photos coming.Coach Arms- we need one of your new arrival.  Congrats to Arms and Legs on the birth of their daughter!Draft responsibly,BrickO