Haircut

I now have short hair - or at least what passes as short hair for me. My hair is in fact the shortest it has been in well over 12-13 years. My only hope is that it will grow - quickly. To say that I am grieving would be an exaggeration, but not by much.

I miss my hair, I miss knowing that it is there, I miss being identified, at least in part, as the teacher with the really long hair. Just a few minutes before I went to the student lounge at Fleming College to get it cut, I heard a student as we passed in the hall say to his mates - "That dudes got some sick hair!" or at something like that. I will miss those comments as I walk thought life.

I have known Wally - my barber for quite awhile. Not that we see each other very often. In fact it has been, by my rough calculations,  about 10 years since we last talked. I use to go to Wally's to get my hair trimmed every moth or so. People seeing me go in would wonder why I, after being in his shop for 10-15 minutes came out with nothing cut off. In fact people use to ask me if Wally had refused to cut my hair.

What most folks didn't know was that Wally had for a few years been helping me let my hair grow long while still looking respectable. It was an almost impossible task but he did the best he could. When I decided to get my hair cut to raise money for the Save The Net Campaign there was no one I could think of to cut my hair except for Wally. I felt as if I owed him that much.

It was great to see him and to know that we could still enjoy sharing a few stories as he "trimmed " my hair.

Getting my haircut in front of a handful of students, in a very public place was weird, uncomfortable and almost unpleasant. I think I like to have a bit more control over things than I did. But I gave my word; I had collected somewhere $400; it was too late to say no.

There is a plus side to all of this............. I can comb my hair! For the past eight years I could only use a brush - a comb could never get through the tangled hair - at least  not without ripping out chunks of hair. I had a shower this morning and it was fast. I am sure I saved at least 5 minutes of hot water. I should be able to retire a few months earlier just on the savings from the reduction in shampoo and conditioner alone.

The reality is that in spite of the fact that it is 1-2 inches shorter than I had envisioned, my hair is freer now than at anytime in the past 5-6 years. Because it got so easily tangled, it was almost always braided or tied behind my head. I seldom got to feel the freedom of it blowing in the wind..... it was just too much work to comb/brush afterwards. So as short as it is - it now does move in the wind and that feels good.

And it will grow - won't it?

On the Road Again (almost) 2013)

I had the strangest dream last night. I was hitchhiking somewhere between Cambray and Woodville (just north of Lindsay, Ontario) in a T-shirt and shorts. I had left my black suitcase with wheels (like the one that I use when I fly) and I kept on having to go back and get it. And then through the magic that can only exist in dreams I was quickly transported to just outside of Ottawa and quickly got the perfect ride to the west.

While I don't very often remember details of my dreams, I was not surprised that I did this one. For the past week or so I have been aware  that thinking/day dreaming about traveling has gradually been moving from my sub-conscious  into my conscious mind. The other day  I was looking for a new dress shirt at Mark's Warehouse and before I knew it, I was looking at new light weight quick dry pants for traveling. On another day I started to look for new hiking boots. And while I am not yet at the point where I think about parking my car on the side of the road and flagging down a big truck I know that the obsession is starting.

It is only the middle of February and given the amount of snow on the ground, there is at least another seven to eight weeks of winter. I have another ten weeks of teaching. But I can feel the pull of the road upon my soul. That restless energy that starts to build within me until it is almost touchable. My thumb is getting itchy. It is time to start traveling again.

I have lots of potential places to go. I would love to go back to Yellowknife and spend some more time there getting to know the area, but I have yet to go to the Yukon, the last of the of the province/territory left for me to see. There is also a National Gathering in Montana and it would be great go and to see folks I have not seen for a year or two. There are so many places, little towns or valleys that one can see from the highway that I ache to visit at least just once.  

It is only February. I have lots of time to dream and to plan and to trace the miles on the map that I carry in my head. As I lay in bed I can see the routes, the good places to get a ride, the places to sleep and already the rides that I will get. At least for a while I just need to make sure that my dreams stay in my head during the quiet times. It is so hard to teach when I lose track of the conversation in the classroom and drift into thinking about being on the road again