Paul McCulley getting busted by his 12 year old son for having hair too long... damned hippies running around I guess -g-
My son Jonathan, twelve years old, recently made a declaration: the Old Man has become an Old Fart. Quite naturally, I was not ecstatic about the change in moniker, and asked for an explanation. He plaintively explained there were two compelling pieces of evidence, both deeply embarrassing to him: (1) I frequently venture out of the house on the weekend, insisting that he accompany me, with the collar turned up on my polo shirt; and (2) I return from the barbershop with hair still touching, if not reaching over, the top of my ears. These two offenses, Jonnie declared, are truly signs of an Old Fart. If I want him to more joyfully join me on outings, he urgently pleaded, I need to “turn down the collar and trim up the hair.”
I’m thinking about it. The collar part is easy, but I’m not sure about taking barbering directions from a twelve year old. Indeed, the irony of my son badgering me to get a close haircut, like he does, after having my own Old Man badger me over thirty years ago to do the same thing, is just a bit too much for me to take. Why is it that men of my generation worry about these things? Were we stripped at birth of sovereignty over hair matters? All I ever wanted from my Pops on the hair front was the right to wear it my way, not his. Now my son wants not just the right to wear his own his way, but to have me wear mine his way, too.
pimco.com
if you click on that link you can see that Paul sits around all day eating hash brownies, and listening to Iron Butterfly :-) |
