A Metrosexual Werewolf In Charleston

August 27, 2011


I wannabe Chris Cornell...


It just sort of threw me from the beginning. I mean, breaking down and getting the Wahl trimmer kit was a break from my unroutine to begin with, my usual manner of dealing with haircuts being: “Pretty scraggly there, Myers. Pain in the butt to deal with, to boot.” and I would get myself to the barber shop in a lackadaisical time frame. Once there I would have it cut within military spec, mind you, but it may very well be one of two or three haircuts that year. OK two, at best. See, having thick, blond hair is something I’ve tended to work in a couple of ways. First, the ladies dug it from an early age, and a lanky, clunky teenager will take whatever he can get to work with. Second, it has usually grown fast enough such that I could have it at whatever length would piss the most people off. No…that’s not really true. More just always wanting to be deliberately out of step with whatever was popular fashion or cliche. I think Lisa still has a ponytail of mine stashed away which we cut off in the later ’90s, maybe a year or two after we met and I had seen enough of guys in business suits with a mullet ponytail. I never had a mullet. Never, ever, ever…

But pretending to grow up has certain inherent evolutions, I suppose, so I thought it might be time to go to a cleaner look. For the sake of family considerations, and all that. And perhaps I am getting to a more nostalgic point in my life where things that link back to childhood are seen with more rose-colored glasses than in more rebellious years. Whatever the case, a Wahl trimmer kit seemed a good idea that’s time had come. The first few times I looked for one I was a bit bemused by the more metrosexual-esque kits I found, instead. These appeared meant to trim hair on every part of the body EXCEPT the top of the head. Naughty, smirking imaginations of ways Lisa and I could have fun with that aside, I held out until I found the real, sturdy, traditional thing.

When I found one, I was a kid with a new toy. Doubly so. How many of you guys have memories of Dad buzzing your hair with one of these things when you were a tyke? Don’t worry, maybe ten guys will read this, so this should be quick. Let’s see…one…two…so maybe half. It is a distinct memory, this warm, slightly scary sounding thing buzzing against the bone behind your ear. It can be an oddly comforting sensation when it occurs in later stages of your life. So I open this thing up, with the slightly surreal sensation that I’m now the Dad, and there it is, mixed in with the more familiar snap-on clips for various desired lengths of hair, the “EYEBROW TRIM GUIDE”. As I said way back at the beginning, this thing threw me. Eyebrow trim guide? This was decidedly not part of any nostalgic memory. There is no eyebrow trimming in baseball. Was this a reflection of a newer, hipper Wahl? Or had Dad just chucked this thing early on, protecting me from any fancy-pants things of this nature?

Eyebrow trim guide…? This was an affront to something Lisa had always lovingly teased me about and which I inherited from my Dad: somewhat wild, “Einstein” eyebrows. They had always gone well with the “too naturally wild to be molded by ‘the man'” look that was my favorite throughout much of my adult life. Throw in a bit of Viking scruff, and I was the bad wolf with the good heart…or something. I tossed it back in the bag, but I wasn’t going to get rid of it. That would break the set. Me being somewhat of an OCD rebel, and all.

I eased into the first few haircuts, utilizing the longest clip in the set: 7/8″, I believe. At some point soon after, during one of my more tweaky times, I wanted to do something more radical and cathartic. I determined it was time to cut it all off, perhaps to remind Samson where the power really came from. But it was soon apparent that the wild, bushy brows were now out of context and seemed more sinister. Eyebrow trimmer, huh? What the hell… The teenager in me evoked thoughts of Olympic swimmers such as Michael Phelps trimming all sorts of hair and still being rather bad-ass, in order to rationalize. Or is that rational, really? Either way, the result was a sleeker, more aerodynamic me.

I am currently comforted by the acquired knowledge that they too grow back fairly readily to their more naturally unkempt selves. I can still change characters when it seems appropriate, or appearances get taken too seriously. Or not serious enough. And we have delightfully discovered the trimmer works rather well for hair on various other body parts, as well…

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12 Comments on “A Metrosexual Werewolf In Charleston”

  1. Betty Myers Says:

    I don’t care-I still like your waves & your brother’s curls. Mom’s are like that…


    • Brett Myers Says:

      I’m looking forward to even later years when I can go back to not having to give a damn, and can cultivate crazy old man eyebrows. Maybe even these surprisingly long hairs that the ears are now sprouting… 🙂


  2. Andra watkins Says:

    Ha! Great post. My mom used to cut hair with one of those things. I bet she still does my Dad’s to this day.


    • Brett Myers Says:

      I am still trying to convince the little man to let me do his. I have even tried enticing him with having him cut mine first. He is still holding out for a woman’s touch. I have no idea where he gets that inclination from…


  3. kateshrewsday Says:

    Very glad you never went for a mullett. And I salute your self control. if I bought one of these trimmers, even the dog would be bald.


    • Brett Myers Says:

      It takes a certain measure of resistance not to go too crazy. It is fun, but I suppose the perception of permanence is rather relative.

      Great chance to say I really enjoy your blog. Great photos, smart writing, and I am a sucker for the vernacular… 🙂


  4. tsmithtoday Says:

    I’ve been cutting my own hair with a Wahl for years now. However I only know how to do one style and that is military/ police officer style. I never got the hang of layering or blending different lengths to my satisfaction so I end up with only two lengths – short (almost shaved around the sides and back) and then just a bit longer on top. It doesn’t look good on me and never as good as a professional barber’s cut but it always feels better knowing that I saved 15 bucks. And even though I’m not a police officer any more I still cut my hair that way.


    • Brett Myers Says:

      I know what you mean, Tom. I typically just clip on the #8, and have at it. Anything left hanging over the tops of the ears gets lopped off at the end, so to speak. What department were you with? My dad was CPD for over 10 years, back in the early days of Chief Greenberg.


      • tsmithtoday Says:

        I started there at Christmas in 1988 and left in the summer of 2007. Who was your father? I saw his pic in one of your previous blogs but I didn’t recognize him.


        • Brett Myers Says:

          Robert (Bob) Myers. You two may have just missed each other. If Mom is clocking this, she will hopefully correct me if I am wrong.

          And if Kate is clocking this, she will hopefully understand that any borrowing of colloquialisms is a sincere form of flattery.


  5. Betty Myers Says:

    Brett, you have the wrong chief. Dad was with CPD during Chief Conroy’s time. Don’t have the dates handy but after the Hospital strikes and left prior to Conroy’s death. Originally started with Traffic (rode those big Harley’s), then Patrol. Was Sgt. when left for Shipyard.


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