I’d blogged before about my 70s hair style.  With straight blond hair it wound up like Rick Wakeman’s.

          But once I was accepted into biz school, I figured I didn’t want to be pegged as the token hippie.  So I switched to:

          And that look has stayed with me to the present, EXCEPT, for one day in the 80s.

          I went downtown to get a haircut.  It was a fine summer day.  Too fine though.  My barber had closed shop early to go to some festival.  No problem, or so I thought.  There were a couple of other places nearby so I sauntered into one.  You’ll see from the Ilya Kuryakin pic above, my hair needs little tending to.  So I reckoned that the barber didn’t need much guidance from me.  I may have muttered something like “Nothing special”.

          I removed my glasses and she went to work.  Without them I’m not completely blind but the world appears gauzy, filled with ill-defined shapes and colors.  After a while she held up a mirror.  Sans specs, it was hard to tell.  It looked like a mess but I reckoned she was just gauging the desired length.  “Fine” I said.

          Then she began removing the apron and handed me my glasses.  I was shocked what the clearer view disclosed.  This!

          It turned out that I’d unknowingly entered a New Wave establishment and everyone was getting weird cuts.  That evening my friends had a huge laugh.  The next day it washed out back to something close to normal but how I wish I’d snapped a photo.  Anyway, in honor of Mr. Idol:

          And while we’re at it, how about some Clash: