BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Got your attention, didn’t I?

Well, don’t start covering your eyes just yet. There’s a good story behind that selection for the title. But then, there always is, isn’t there?

So, I think we have pretty well established that I had myself a haircut. If anyone is just now coming into this and doesn’t know about it, go back a few entries and look at the pictures.  Better yet, just click here – Murv Makeover. I had the 20 year ponytail lopped off and a new “do” sculpted atop the braincase. Rumor has it I look younger. Don’t know if that’s true, but what the hell, I’ll take it…

Now, if you’ve been a regular reader of Brainpan Leakage, and I’m talking even way back to the original Myspace Blog Platform days, then you are also familiar with my views on art. If not, read about it here – Murv’s Views On Art.

Okay, all caught up? Good.

So, by now I am sure you are wondering what my curmudgeonly views on art and a haircut have to do with one another. Why do I say that? Because it seems y’all wonder an awful lot whenever I tell a story. Wonder why that is?

Okay, okay… I’ll get on with it. I have a friend – quit snickering… I actually have several friends believe it or not… So, anyway, I have a good friend who is an artist. No, not the guy who does bookcovers. A different person. A girl person. Someone I went to high school with, in fact.

Every now and then I get an email from Celeste telling me that she has a piece or two in an art show, or that she has a showing at a coffee house, or something like that. Now, Celeste actually does art I can appreciate, unlike that which I ramble about in the above linked blog entry. Unfortunately, as life and timing would have it, every time I hear from her about a show, it is falling on a day when I will be in West-Whatchamacallit doing a signing, therefore I never seem to be able to attend. Because of this, I haven’t actually seen Celeste in a couple of years.

Fast forward to this past Friday night. I had received a note from my friend that she had a piece in an art show at the gallery over at Meramec College. I checked my schedule and voila, I was going to be in town. So, E K, the offspring and I decided we would go to the gallery and surprise Celeste.

We arrived and wandered around, looking at various pieces of sculpture, paintings, and all manner of stuff. I kept searching through the crowd for my friend. Eventually, I spotted her across the gallery. Telling E K, I skirted around the folks and made my way over to where Celeste was standing. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she turned and was walking away right about the time I arrived on her side of the room.

So, what did I do? Well, since there were hushed conversations going on all around me and the atmosphere seemed a bit libarary-ish, I reached out and poked her right in the back of the neck with my index finger before she could get away. Of course, she immediately turned to see what, or who, had touched her.

This is where the haircut comes in. Remember, Celeste hadn’t seen me for a couple of years, and she doesn’t really follow my blog.

My friend started out with a curious look on her face, as one would expect. This quickly morphed into a furrowed brow, which was even more rapidly replaced by a scowl and glare.

Yeah, she was standing there staring at me with an if looks could kill expression that said in no uncertain terms, “Who the hell are you and why the fuck did you touch me you pervert?!”

It took better than 5 seconds – maybe even ten – before the scowl disappeared and recognition spread over her face as she yelped, “Murv!” and gave me a hug. Good thing too, because I starting to think she was going to hit me.

I guess the moral of the story here is, don’t get your hair cut then go around arbitrarily touching people, no matter how long you’ve been friends.

Still… It was priceless. I really wish I’d had a camera.

More to come…

Murv

I’ll apologize up front – this isn’t one of my funny ha-ha blogs. But, by the same token it is a missive some of y’all have been screaming for me to post ever since this morning, so here goes…

Not long ago I wrote a blog about an impending change in my style. My hairstyle, to be more specific. I told everyone that I was going to be losing the ponytail. Getting myself a respectable haircut.

Some of you posted comments. Some of you didn’t. Some of you obviously read the blog, some of you obviously didn’t – we’ll be getting to how I know that in just a bit. All I can say though is, tsk tsk tsk to those of you who blew it off and didn’t read that entry. (Grin)

One of you – yes, you “John Of The Corona And Chocolate Milk Fame” – even commented about waiting to see if I was really going to go through with it. Dude…I mean, that right there was practically a “double dog dare” in its own right. But then, I highly suspect you already knew that. (LOL!)

Anyway, I had set the date for today, so this morning I posted a tweet and status update on all my social networking pages to let everyone know the time had arrived. Imagine my surprise when the next thing I knew people were crawling out of the woodwork screaming, “What? No! You can’t! Why haven’t I heard about this? Say it ain’t so! What brought this on? Etc…”

I have to say, it was interesting to watch. Some of you, very dear friends in fact, seemed to go immediately into a state of mourning. Wailing, black veils, and the whole nine yards. I could actually smell the matches and hear the Bic’s as candles were lit all across the country. It was, to say the least, very profound.

In fact, it was just plain touching. It gave me pause. I sat back and ruminated about whether or not I should actually go through with this.

Then I got into the car and went down to SuperCuts. Yeah… I still had myself a full blown LOPITOFFAME…

We arrived at the SuperCuts on St. Charles Rock Road, late morning. We selected this particular hair-cuttery due to the fact that it wasn’t terribly busy, and it was also on the way to Target – for the French readers that would be, Tarr-jaey.

Fortunately, I was able to get into a chair right away, and when my stylist asked what I was after by way of a cut, I told her that after 20 years it was time for the ponytail to go.

Her jaw dropped. After a moment she said, “And I get to do it?”

I replied, “Yeah.”

Her face spread into a grin and she said something akin to “Oh Goodie!”

Apparently ponytails are kind of out of style or some such. That’s what  the Evil Redhead told me, anyway. Judging from the stylist’s reaction, I have to assume maybe that is true, because she was all about getting rid of it. At any rate I figured that since I had dropped the first shoe, I should just keep making noise and drop the other.

“Do you mind if my wife takes pictures,” I asked. “Some of my fans are wanting to see this.”

Of course, the use of the word fans lead us right into the whole, “What kind of fans, what do you do?” Q&A session. When she found out I was an author, and what I wrote, she started getting excited all over again. It seems she figured she just might have a famous person in her chair. Well, I didn’t correct her on that point. I figured my ears might be safer if she really and truly believed I was actually important or something.

As it turned out, all of the ladies in the salon were having a ball with this. In fact, the gal working the chair next to mine was picking back and forth with my stylist in a manner that pretty much reminded me of when Morrison and I joke around on tour.

Once the official “ponytailectomy” itself was done, she started in trying to do something with the fine mop that is my hair. After parting it, spraying it with water, then combing it out, she leaned down and told me, “I promise you won’t look like Moe when I’m finished.”

E K was already standing off to the side, snapping pictures and giggling uncontrollably. Obviously she was having fun, because as you well know, the Evil Redhead never giggles. She might cackle with evil glee, but giggle? Nope, just not her thing.

At one point during the styling, when we found out my lopped off tail wasn’t suitable for use by Locks of Love, my stylist asked the Evil Redhead if she wanted it.

Of course, E Kay turned to me and said, “I wonder if we can get anything for it?” then burst into more uncontrollable giggling.

I’ll be honest. For a half-second I actually considered auctioning it off for charity, but then I came to my senses. I really didn’t want my hair falling into the wrong hands if you know what I mean. (wink wink, nudge nudge, Witch’s secret handshake and all that…)

At this stage of the game, my stylist joked that maybe she should put some of the trimmings from the floor on Ebay. At least, I’m pretty sure she was joking… I guess I should go looking for M. R. Sellars hair on the web because I might need to bid on it or something.

After 15 or so minutes, the job was done. I paid the bill, gave my stylist a nice tip, then hung around for a few minutes talking with the ladies in the salon about my books. When we eventually left, I had the distinct impression that one or two of them might be visiting a bookstore in search of the RGI novels.

So, there you have it. The hair is gone and I’m sporting a new style. Now I just have to get rid of some of this extra tonnage I’m carrying around.

At this point it feels kinda weird. My neck isn’t warm anymore, my head seems lighter, and I get a bit of a shock each time I reach back to straighten the tail that is no longer there – a mannerism I’ve had for 20 years now. I have a feeling that one will be hard to break.

Other than that, the kid doesn’t seem too traumatized, and E K actually likes it. Of course, she was in charge of the style selection and had a confab with the stylist before the Lopitoffame Procedure began.

She did make one admission however – apparently she misses having a “handle”… I’ll let y’all take there where you will, suffice it to say, it’s material for a blog of a different color…

More to come…

Murv

NOTE: Click photos to enlarge…