A Head of Hair
Covid wrought more than a few changes and adaptations to our daily lives a few years ago. Not the least of which was the inability to get to a barber or hair salon for the three or so months we were all in quarantine.
For me, this meant taking the plunge with going silver (note that I said silver, not gray, as silver sounds so much more sophisticated). I had been contemplating it for a time anyway and between lockdown and my colorist Karen moving to FL (I miss you!), it seemed like as good a time as any to take the silver plunge.
For Ernie, this meant that his hair grew. Pre-Covid, Ernie always wore his hair pretty darn short. A very close cut. In barber parlance, I think it would be like a 1 or a 2. For those of you unfamiliar with barber parlance, think Kevin Costner in The Body Guard. Not quite military buzz cut, but super close.
All of this is to say, that who knew what Ernie’s hair really looked like? As the lockdown continued, his locks continued to grow. And what locks they were! Thick, wavy, curly even. A beautiful shade of silver. I was stunned. “Wow,” I said to him. “Your hair looks great! I like this look. You should keep it.”
What I didn’t add was that it also served to balance out his big head. No lie. Ernie has a big head. In fact, when we had to take our son, who was 2 at the time, to the neurologist, they measured Ernie’s head, and said, “That’s the biggest head we’ve ever measured.”
But back to the story. Ernie, not one to ignore such a compliment as that, obliged.
This meant though, that once lockdown was lifted, Ernie would need to go to a hair salon. Not his barber shop. They wouldn’t know what to do with that head of hair. I recommended my hair salon. Ernie’s first question was how much it would cost.
I said, “More than the $18 you pay Nick or Mario”. Ernie struggled with this a bit. But my compliment was ringing in his ears and I didn’t think he wanted to mess with that.
So off to my salon he goes. I texted Ernie pictures of Jon Bon Jovi, Mel Gibson, and Michael Landon to show the hair stylist for inspiration. He came back and the locks were very nicely trimmed and shaped. I loved it! “It looks great, honey!” I exclaimed.
Ernie responded with, “You never told me about the “whole shampoo thing”. I responded with, “Oh yeah, I guess they don’t wash your hair at a barber shop.” He said, “we-e-l-l-l, it’s a little more than that.” At my perplexed expression, he responded with, “hot chicks!” “I like the “whole shampoo thing,” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
His next statement however caused a rift in the homeostasis of the universe. “I had no idea how much to tip them, so I gave them $5.”
“Oh no!” I said. “I only tip them $2! Great. Now I look like a cheap skate. Not to mention I am now going to have to tip them $5 when I go.”
Chalk that up to another effect of Covid. We now tip the hair washers $5. Ernie says it’s the best $5 he ever spends.
This story doesn’t end there however. Once we started going places, post lockdown, Ernie started attracting attention. We were at the Bacon Festival in Bethlehem, for example. We were standing there, when some woman, about our age goes right up to Ernie and touches his hair! “Is this real?” she asked? “It’s gorgeous.” Ernie is grinning from ear to ear.
I am standing there like, “Hello, get your hands off my husband.” Who does that? It’s one thing to compliment someone, but another to touch their hair. Invasion of personal space. However, Ernie didn’t seem to mind.
And this is not the exception. This is the norm. 9 times out of 10, wherever we go, someone is likely to compliment him on his hair.
Most of the time people will tell him he looks like Jerry Garcia. He’s also gotten Sammy Hagar, Doc from Back to the Future, and just today, Arlo Guthrie.
We were at a wedding this past June in Saratoga Springs, NY. This 90 year old woman came over to our table, put her hands on his shoulders, leaned in and whispered in his ear how beautiful his hair was and would he like to dance later.
Our great-nephew had the following comments two summers ago when we visited the family for a BBQ:
Great-nephew: Who has the craziest hair here?
Me: Who?
Great-nephew: Uncle Ernie!
Me: Yeah, I can see why you’d say that.
Great-nephew: I thought it was a wig the first time I saw it.
While food shopping in Giant, a little 4 year old boy ran up to him and asked him if he was a man or a woman. The boy’s mother was mortified. Ernie answered with much vigor, “I’m a man!”. We had a pretty good laugh over that one.
This past summer, while on vacation where it was really hot, Ernie crossed over another threshold. It was so hot that he asked me if I had a hair tie. Never did I think I would see the day that my husband would sport a man bun. But it has happened.
Sometimes I think we have entered some alternate, parallel universe where short-haired pre-Covid Ernie has been swapped with long-haired post-Covid Ernie. But until we find that tear in the fabric of the universe, we will assume that is not the case. And enjoy what we got.
The one casualty of long-haired Ernie? His baseball caps don’t fit him anymore. For those of you who know Ernie, you know he always wore a baseball cap. He has quite the collection and when any of us wondered what to get him for his birthday or Christmas, we knew we couldn’t go wrong with a new baseball cap. I did love Ernie in his baseball caps. There was a boyish charm to him when he wore them.
However, all is not lost. Now that he has crossed over into man-bun territory, he can put his hair in a ponytail and wear it through the back of a cap.
Walking through the ballpark at a Phillies game recently, one woman stopped him and said, “You are thriving!” I think it was a combination of his whole vibe, the hair, the Phillies jersey. I don’t know. All I know is these things never happened to short-haired Ernie before.
Me? I love it all. I am totally ok with a husband who has a better head of hair than me. I love seeing his smile when all these people compliment him.
Thriving? He sure is. So, score one for the pandemic lockdown.