A Presidential Do
Hey, I can relate.
I haven’t had my usual cut since early March.
I look like Einstein in the morning although, sadly, don’t feel any smarter.
But I do feel somewhat presidential. Especially in a breeze.
I’ve decided that to protest females getting all the hairdo attention over the generations, I won’t shave or get a haircut until at least spring.
There are benefits. Soon I’ll be able to weave it into an effective mask. It’s already long enough to serve as a soup strainer. Half a can of hair spray and it can become a nifty cycling helmet. I’ll have Naomi braid it for those special ceremonies, and when I want to read a book, I’ll simply part my bangs. I can maybe even get a job as a Neanderthal model for National Geographic.
Yes, showering is becoming an issue, as we’ve seen with Mister T, but a dab of liquid car wash and the garden hose will make me shine.
Only problem is mother birds have been eyeing me.
I suspect that’s why they seem to hang around the Rose Garden tweeting, as well.
It takes me an hour each day to get every hair in place just so until I can consider my do done, which puts a dent in my time on the links, but whenever I look in a mirror it’s quite gratifying.
A real Trumpian tonsorial triumph.
New Bern, NC
Please, people, let’s mask up in public, avoid gatherings, and keep our distance. Together we can beat this virus.
For some distracting pandemic reading, try the North Carolina suspense series Guns, Diamondback, Kllrs, and Deathsman in print or Kindle on Amazon or through my website. People seem to like the stories.