How I Shaved my Head

I'm glad I have hair, yes. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to deal with it though. The past month or so I have spent too much time in front of the mirror fiddling with my hair, experimenting with different styles (I use the word loosely). I have been so frustrated as of late, that I have wanted to buzz it all off for quite a while.

Jessica is glad that I have hair, yes. Sometimes she wishes she didn't have to deal with me moaning about bad my hair looks though. So, she gave me permission to do what I want. This past weekend I finally decided to drop the hammer on the idea, and take out the clippers.

I first buzzed my head after losing a bet over the 2002 Stanley Cup finals. I was pleased with the results, and it has been an off-and-on favorite haircut of mine ever since. In the past, if I've made the decision to buzz my head, I will first cut it into a Mohawk. This I will sport for as many days as I can get away with, until I cut that down even more, into a Cabbage Patch Kids-esque tuft of hair in the middle of my head. I enjoy this comical quaff for a few more hours before removing that too. The end result is a nice, fuzzy 3-guard buzzed head in need of no product or time to groom it.

The first portion of the plan went exactly as planned. I sported the Mohawk to Jessica's sister Rebecca's soccer game, and then to her birthday dinner at Maggiano's. The next day, while Jessica was cooking dinner, I went into the bathroom to proceed with phase two. Jessica heard me say, "Ohhhh my God" and was too afraid to come in and look. What happened:  I was trimming my head over the toilet. As I heard a Bzzzzzzzt, I saw the plastic guard fall into the toilet, along with a large part of the Mohawk. I examined the damage in the mirror, and found it irreversible. The only thing left to do was what you see now:























After wearing a hat during dinner, I finally showed Jessica, who by now had already guessed what I had done to my head. Now, I laugh every time I see myself in the mirror. Jessica put it best, "I was okay with you buzzing your head so you would stop looking at your hair in the mirror. But now you just stare at yourself in disbelief even more than before." True. Perhaps the funniest thing to me about this is that my boss, Chicago sommelier Don Sritong bics his head. Myself and a colleague were saying how funny it would be if I slowly looked more and more like Don, and told his stories like they were my own, while teaching some of his classes and events. Well, though an accident, it looks like I've taken that first step. At least I know he can't get pissed at me though- I still have more hair than him.