You see, Mom found a few odd pictures of me and Dad sent them along (with a subject line of "Dad, the Scanner").
These three are from a sequence from a big day at the end of 1979, when I'm about 23 and temporarily beardless. I hadn't cut my hair all through college and then for another year, but the exigencies of finding my way in the world got the better of me and I decided to go for the big chop (for the second time in my life). Before I went to the hair salon my father took these two very silly pictures of me.
First I let my hair out of its ponytail, which I never ever did (and for that matter still never do) and we took this Morticia Addams shot on the front porch.
It's not just a silly picture, but it's taken from that angle where I'm all chin and nose. Not, as they say, my best side.
Then I did my "Cousin It" pose, with which I used to entertain small children. The contrast is coming across dark on my screen, which makes it more a JoJo the Dog-Faced Boy pose:
Then it was off for the surgery. The woman who cut my hair off warned me that because my hair had been so long it would hang flat and heavy for a while but not to worry about that. Uh-huh, I thought to myself, knowing this would not be the case. As she snipped with her scissors my hair would spring up with a sort of "boing". Then I went home and my father took this follow-up shot (yes, the same day in the same clothing as the two previous shots):
I do much better with a full-face view I think. So folks, remember always to look at me head on and we'll all be happy.
I kept the hair short for a few years but it never seemed right, in a karmic sense. I stopped cutting it again in 1985.
I think the next time I cut it I'll first do another photo shoot: Nude shots with the hair covering the naughty bits -- a spread for Godiva magazine.