Alternately titled: Last of the fluff
belonging to a Mohican
Norwegian bachelor farmer wannabe.
Any resemblance between said unnamed individual
and living persons purely coincidental.
Scads of decades back in the day,
not since this sexagenarian baby boomer
happened to be approximately
three and a half decades deep,
into his freshman year at college,
the word haircut
just re:entered his vocabulary
at the expense of unfairly
subjecting innocent bystanders
slipping and sliding along oil slicks
dripping off the bedraggled
locks of mein haar
(veritable strangers in a strange land -
plus medical practitioners such as:
optometrist, otolaryngologists, internists, et cetera)
wore latex gloves when their hands
forced to make contact
with living and breathing biohazard
namely videre licet
greasy critter infested hair
(essentially a near microscopic ecosystem -)
thriving amidst primordial ooze property of one
long haired pencil necked geek,
who rode into the quaint town
(that time forgot
and the years could not improve)
tied up his trusty horse
at Salon Nova LLC
377 W Ridge Pike A, Limerick, PA 19468.
Upon entering aforementioned
beautician promoting being pampered establishment
out there on the prairie
immediately spelled home companion,
yours truly (me) received
a warm welcome
from Jessamine McKeown.
I unhesitatingly, gingerly, and excitedly
sat in the comfortable barber chair,
and let the technician
affix the plastic drape
after which she brushed
my somewhat tangled hair,
(vowing not to wince),
cuz I bristled with some discomfort
since straggly, ratty,
nippy, nap, noopy,
drippy, drap droopy,
limp locks of time
rarely saw the teeth of a comb
cuz yours truly became
negligent regarding grooming,
which absent attention to self
fell by the wayside
around middle school age
after my mother
forced me to take a bath
no matter the time
fast approaching bewitching hour,
and yours truly (me) vowed
on a stack of Revised English Version
of the Bible translated
from a biblical Unitarian perspective
to neglect hygiene - think
passive aggressive behaviour,
which did stand me in good stead,
when in the midst of fellow Neanderthals
within the realm of the twilight zone
signaling the outer limits
of proto Homo sapiens civilizations
where dark shadows linkedin
to the allegory of the caves
far from the madding crowd
unsuspecting tribal simians
guffawing at a photograph
taken early/mid July of ninety ninety six,
which did recaptcha
for an ephemeral timeless moment,
a youthful shirtless young man
a proud grown boy
revealing his hairless washboard stomach
smiling without a care in the world
and counting himself
the luckiest guy in the webbed wide world,
cuz a beautiful babe would become
the mother of his firstborn
about five months thence
unknowingly imposing the impetus
of impending selfless responsibilities
necessary to quell unhappy infant.
Offtimes our bundle of joy inconsolable
and presented an impossible mission to pacify,
exhausting both of us birth parents
and interestingly enough
an unexpected turn of events
can be iterated in retrospect
of my life and hard times,
whereby the author of these words
(and proud papa of either daughter,
one youngest offspring
necessitated receiving modified
Individualized Education Program (IEP),
attributed to developmental (cognitive) delays,
whereas the eldest gifted
as exceptionally intelligent progeny
and a potential candidate for Mensa
so different from yours truly (me),
who foundered at various crossroads of his life,
ever since day one
and felt like veritable pariah,
not necessarily being called enfant terrible
nor ragamuffin to his face
but transition from boyhood to puberty
triggered quiet protestations
to comply with established standards
mainly concerning cleanliness
once riot of hormones unleashed
an emotional tsunami
attendant with secretion of body odor
atavistic characteristics to attract a mate.