Cutting Hair Hardly a Trivial Affair

by LIZ THOMPSON

It takes concentrated effort to stay optimistic. The news is filled with war in foreign lands and mini-wars on many of our streets and behind closed doors.

It's not that I don't want to know about the war in Iraq and the state of our nation, it's just I don't understand the need for a ringside seat every time I watch national news.

Since I lived through the '60s, I remember the expression about looking at life through rose-colored glasses. I prefer this quote by Australian writer, Allen Steble: "Looking on the bright side doesn't make you blind to the problems around you but helps you to see them in a positive light."

Putting a positive spin on war is a tough call, but we do love to see stories about soldiers' homecomings. The photos of children and spouses hugging and crying happily warm our hearts. That one made it, we think. We need to search more diligently for this news – it exists. Each generation has fought for the freedom to do so.

As I don my shades and lift my long, thick hair to pretend it is short and cool, I ponder my promise to my husband, Bob.

What? From war to hair, you say? Mentioning hair at all seems trivial – it is unworthy using breath to say the words when the world is in turmoil right? "Trivial" stirred in my brain for a week and did not culminate into this column until I went to a party. More on that in a minute.

My husband is generous and seldom asks me to do anything that could be difficult for me. So last year when he asked if I would allow my hair to grow for one year because he had never seen it long, I said, "Sure."

At 20, my hair length fell below my waist. By the time we met, I had my Dorothy Hamill haircut. The renowned figure skater's short, sculptured hair style became a trend. That is how I wore mine for years. I tried several times to grow my hair long again, but gave up when it hit the "sticks in the collar" length.

This time I let it grow for almost 10 months and last week called it quits. It was thick, unruly, and my right arm will never work correctly since I broke it and damaged my rotator cuffr, so styling was tiresome. And honestly, long hair simply doesn't suit me anymore.

This particular humid evening, as I was getting ready for my hair appointment, I looked at Bob and asked him how it looked, knowing I had really worked to fix my hair that day. "Ragged. Get it cut, hon," was his answer. He knows I tried. It was kind of fun seeing it grow below my shoulders – well not lots of fun, but a challenge.

I got a modern version of my Dorothy Hamill-look and I love it. Bob smiled when he saw me and that said it all.

Sunday, I was talking with a new acquaintance, Sue Ruth, at a party. She was easy to talk with and we covered a lot of good territory. When I mentioned I was toying with an idea for a column, she listened. I said what stuck in my mind was how trivial a hair cut seems in the whole scheme of life these days; she had an opinion. I love hearing other people's insights.

Two of her young granddaughters had recently had their waist-length hair cut short to provide hair for Locks of Love. This non-profit organization provides youthful-looking wigs for young people 18 or younger who have long term medical hair loss.

"I am so proud of them," Sue said. "Hair may seem trivial but when it affects your self-esteem and well being, it becomes important."

Where was my head (and the rest of me) when I decided to get my hair cut? Well, it was in the beautician's chair, but when I think about all that hair on the floor, I cringe. A missed opportunity I won't have again. Mine wasn't nearly as long as Sue's granddaughters' hair, but it might have worked. I didn't ask and it saddens me.

I checked the Locks of Love Web site (www.locksoflove.org) and saw photos three young girls before, with no hair, and after with wigs from donated hair. It must make a difference to these young girls when they look in the mirror and fight their disease or illness. What a gift for these young people to have a lasting memory of those who cared.

When the news of war permeates my mind, I will remember the people who battle disease to stay alive.

I will picture Sue's granddaughters and others, who make a difference in lives of others by cutting the not-so-trivial locks.
 

Published in Suburban News Publications
8-30-06


Liz Thompson is a freelance writer and former Suburban News Publications reporter who lives in Grove City with her husband, Bob.


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