The Tail of the Pony

Way back in March I stopped shaving my head and let my hair grow as a measure of how long this pandemic lasted.  I said that I would let it grow until I was once again able to travel safely to Mexico.  It was no surprise to me that my hair was now mostly white, or that there was not much on the top.  Nor was it a surprise that my hair is still a curly, unruly mess that seems to have a mind of it own.  That is why even before I started shaving my head I rarely let it grow very long.  Even in high school and college, during the "flower child" era of the late 60s and 70s, my hair was relatively short. 

I had no idea that nine months later the pandemic would still be raging.  I would have thought that by this point my hair would have been down to my shoulder.  It is not, but it is longer than it has ever been.  However in the last few weeks I have been able to tie it up into a small pony tail.  The picture is slightly blurry... it's not easy to take a picture of the back of your head in the bathroom mirror... but here is my diminutive pony tail.

Lest you mock me as some ridiculous, aging hippie, the pony tail helps keep my errant hair in place.  And, besides, in my opinion, I don't look like an "over-the-hill" rock star, but rather, a retired bullfighter or a slightly disheveled 18th century gentleman. 😁