Monthly Archives: November 2007

Andrew gets a haircut

Events,

We are not the strictest of parents, but we do set limits. One thing, however, that we let the kids decide upon is their hair styles. When Andrew wanted a buzz cut we let him do it (I think I shed a few tears though). When Clare wanted long hair, we let her grow it long, even though she fussed when we tried to comb the snarls out.

A few years ago, Andrew decided to grow his hair long. I’m not sure how much of a conscious decision this was on his part, or just part of his not wanting to suddenly change his appearance in any way – even getting a hair trim on a Friday would make him feel as if people were staring at him on Monday. By 6th grade Andrew’s hair was to his shoulders and he was the recipient of much female attention -I mostly saw the adult females telling him how pretty his hair was and how jealous they were that their hair was not blond and curly like his.

He put up with a lot of teasing about his hair length, too. His grandfather always asked when he was getting it cut, his wrestling coach called him “Sunshine“, his wrestling team threatened to hold him down and cut his hair, and he was mistaken for a girl too many times to count. I really expected this to bother him, but he took it well and even dressed up as a girl two Halloweens in a row.He’d found a way to stand out in middle school in a good, but slightly unique way and would probably still have the long hair if it weren’t for wrestling.

Andrew’s new wrestling coach in high school made it clear to him at wrestling camp this summer that the long hair was going to have to go. We knew about this rule, so it wasn’t a shock to any of us, but it was sad nonetheless. I liked being the mom with the kid with the long curly blond hair – and I liked the way it looked on him. I also wondered what would replace this as his way to be accepted in school.

So a few days before school started I made an appointment with my stylist and friend, Doug Miller. Doug has long hair himself, so he was able to sympathize with Andrew and assure him that if he wanted long hair after high school, it would grow back just fine.

We took a few shots of Andrew’s hair before we went to see Doug. The front and back and sides – for memories. And of the hair on the floor during the cut. (I remember doing this when the kids had their first haircuts).

Throughout the cut, Andrew was fine – a little subdued, but resolved that this had to be done and Doug chatted about things other than hair.

Clare chose to come along for the appointment – I don’t think she had an appointment that day and wasn’t sure why she was with us, but by the look on her face in this picture, I think it was go gloat. Or perhaps to give her sisterly support. Nah. Look at her face.

Before and After shots of Andrew’s haircut. Which one do you like better?

Lucy in the sky with diamonds

Events, ,

One of the better things about living in the DC area is the number of celebrities that come our way. A few weeks ago I saw one icon from my teenage years and tonight I got to be up close with another.

The icon from last month was Bob Dylan. While I’m happy to have seen him, his portion of the show was horrible — I could not understand a word he said and it seemed to be lackluster. I feel it might have been a waste of money and time. No, I take that back. I can now die saying I SAW BOB DYLAN.

Last night I saw Peter Max, someone who’s name was familiar to most teens of the 1970’s. Many of us had posters or stickers or t shirts with his art on it. I had a poster of his in my bedroom and a towel with the famous lips image in the middle. (my dad brought it home from a gas station giveaway).

I heard about this show on my current favorite radio station, 94.7 The Globe and figured since my husband and kids were at the Morrisey concert, I could go see someone whose art was a big part of my past. Plus the showing was very close to my house at one of the two local malls. I went to the website of the mall and noted that the show went from 6 – 9, so figured I could come anytime in between.

I arrived at 6:30 and sort of a queue was beginning to form. A group of elementary school students were in the front of the line and various others were behind them. One couple had two posters with them – perhaps hoping he would sign them. (I would have brought my lips towel, but couldn’t find it) .Because I didn’t expect to actually talk to the artist, I got a glass of wine and stood on the side.

At about 7:00 Peter Max walked into the gallery with a man with a huge camera. The walked through to the back room of the gallery, then came out and Peter Max began talking to people – first the children, then other people in line. He signed and doodled in books [which sold for around $250]. He signed the back of his artwork — I never noticed if he signed the posters for the couple in line.

After a while the children and their adult companions unrolled a yellow poster proclaiming that their elementary school loved the art of Peter Max. It looked like all of the students in the school had signed this poster. To his credit the artist spent a lot of time with this group, posing for photos and signing gallery announcement brochures. I spoke to a woman for a few minutes about the significance Peter Max played in our lives and why we were at this show. We both were impressed with the kids. It never occurred to me that Peter Max was the kind of artist to be studied in schools, but why not?

I moved across the room and had another chat with a different woman about the same sorts of things. We then discussed Bethesda and DC. She’s only lived here a year or so and was very pleasant to talk to.

All-in-all, I cannot say I was impressed with the artist. It was like Bob Dylan all over again – OK, maybe a little better. Bob didn’t seem to care about his fans, but Peter Max was gracious, especially to the children. The fact that he left by 7:30 was weird though. The show was supposed to go on for 3 hours. I suppose if you are a pop icon you can promise one thing and do something else.

My favorite part? Talking to other 50-something women out for the evening on their own. The free wine was nice too.

Things that go bump in the night.

Writing, , , ,

Years ago when I was enamored with Stephen King’s novels I read in an interview that the only book of his that scared him when he was writing it was Pet Sematary. I found that a little hard to believe. I didn’t think that someone could write something that scared them any more than they could tickle themselves enough to really laugh.

Last night, in my attic office, I was up late finishing up my alloted word count for my NaNoWriMo story. Everyone else in the house was asleep, or nearly asleep. In the story the main character has a seemingly irrational fear of something common in all homes and I was at the part describing this fear. I suddenly got a little nervous myself and when I heard a noise that seemed to come from the closet near my desk, I jumped and my heart began to pound. We live in an older house, that has creaks and groans all the time, and the night was a little windy, so the noise was either the house settling, a twig falling on the roof — only a couple feet from my head — or something dropping off my daughter’s bed (directly below my desk). Even though I told myself those things, I was shaken and when I checked that my word count was adequate, saved my work, closed down the computer, shut off the attic lights and hurried downstairs to bed.

Until last night I didn’t realize that I was writing a novel in the horror/thriller genre. Sorry Mr. King – I’ll never doubt you again!