I have long hair again. Well, sort off. If I tug at the few strands that still cling to the front and centre of my head, I can see them. That hasn’t happened to me in about 38 years. I know, because I had a part-time job working in a bar and the owner made my cut my locks before I could serve the public.
I’m back to that stage now.
My hair used to be black then. Now its fifty shades of grey. The eyebrows have even started to spring a few white hairs, and as soon as this lockdown thing is over, I’ll be heading straight to a chemist’s shop and buy a tweezers to pluck the white ones out
My hair used to be black then. Now its fifty shades of grey.
The eyebrows have even started to spring a few white hairs, and as soon as this lockdown thing is over, I’ll be heading straight to a chemist’s shop and buy a tweezers to pluck the white ones out.
If I was a native Indian from North America, my tribe name would probably be “Man With Salt and Pepper Eyebrows”. That reminds me that when I was working in Canada as a journalist, I came across a native protester called “Milton Born With A Tooth”.
It’s a name that has also remained with me. From what I remembered, he was part of a blockade stopping trains from running somewhere out on the Prairies, like Manitoba, Saskatchewan or Alberta.
I can’t remember those details, but I remember his name – Milton Born With A Tooth. In journalistic parlance, second reference was “Mr Born With A Tooth”, which always struck me as strange.
At the time, the newspaper used honorifics – the proper titles for people. It was always a source of mirth when we referred to Mr Hitler in Second World War stories.
The man who told me to get a haircut, I still refer to him to this day as Mr Grainger. He still calls me “The Student” – and that four decades later.
Importance of honorifics
I think honorifics are important. They are signs of respect. We don’t show enough respect nowadays, I think. It bugs me when I hear children call their parents “Tom” or “Mary” or whatever the name is, instead of “Mum” or “Dad”. If I ever called my Dad “Benny” I’d get a clip across the ears.
You could do that five decades ago, get or give a clip across the ears to people who disrespected. Now, you’d be charged and would be referred to as “the defendant”.
I like to see nephews and nieces refer to Aunt and Uncle, not “Mary” or “Tom of whatever the name is. I have elderly uncles – the elderly aunts are all gone – and I still use the honorifics, Uncle Larry or Uncle Michael.
I also think it’s important to use the word Sir, if people are older than me. Older people deserve our respect, don’t they. Getting on in years is a fact of life, just like greying hair and greying eyebrows.
The owner of the local shop in the village in Ireland where I’ve been in lockdown has caved in. He got the electric clippers out and gave himself a number three all the way around.
Every time I go in there – thankfully I’m not allowed in there often – he asks me when I’m going to cave in and get the clippers out. I can’t do it. I haven’t ever had really short hair.
I’m afraid that if I do it I might find something on my head that’s supposed to be there, I tell him.
“What? Like you brain?” he says. I laugh, then I think of Milton Born With a Tooth and native Indian names. Forget “Man With Salt and Pepper Eyebrows” as my native name – I’d opt for “Man Born With A Brain.
Yes, this lockdown is getting to me. And I can’t wait for the barber’s shop to open.
