Hairwatch: day 61, plus Halloween meditations

I have to say, now that the patchy bits above my temples are getting less obvious, I'm liking the do right now -- and I've gotten enough compliments to make me overcome the lingering misgivings. We might be keeping it at this length for a while.


(And for those who are concerned about such things, no, I am not growing back the goatee -- I just need a shave.)

Happy Halloween, all ... driving home from campus tonight I passed the hordes of wee ghouls and goblins out looking for candy. It was raining and cold, and yet there they were -- and so today's Non Sequitur cartoon seemed apt for the climate and context in which I live:


See, this is how I know that I've irrevocably reached adulthood -- steamed clams and lobster claws would be quite welcome in my Halloween loot bag. Though I might find myself complaining "Where are the damned mussels, lady?"

(On the same lines, I stopped at the liquor store on the way home to grab a bottle of wine and was suffused with the desire to walk up to the clerk and shout "Trick or treat!" with an empty plastic bag outstretched ... if that didn't get me arrested in and of itself, when I returned with the moral obligation to toilet-paper the store ... well, I've never seen a Newfoundland SWAT team in action, and don't really care to).

Unfortunately, I did not myself dress up this year -- which makes it now four years since I've done the costume thing. This must change! I miss dressing up ... and one day, I swear it, I will in fact emerge on Halloween night dressed as Postmodernism Man -- fighting for schizophrenia, pastiche, and incredulity to metanarratives everywhere!

I just have to figure out what that would look like, and it's all good.