The Language of Hair

I don't think I'm an idiot. I have hung out with (and been employed by) Skip Strobel, one of the world's leading plant pathologists. I have beaten some real smarty pants at Scrabble. I am a published writer, for goodness sakes! And yet, I cannot communicate with hair stylists. I don't know their language. They fluster and intimidate me and make me feel stupid. It happened again today. I went into Supercuts (yeah, I know...) to get a haircut before my trip to San Antonio. I had a picture with me. A nice middle-aged lady haircut. It kind of looked like Judge Judy (whose hair I admire) if Judge Judy had thin, straight, lifeless hair. It looked like a style that even I could manage with a hair dryer, round brush and lots of product.

The first thing the girl said was, "Really? This is very extreme. Are you sure?" Suddenly, after dithering about this for the past two weeks, I wasn't at all sure. The picture didn't look extreme to me. Christian from Project Runway has extreme hair, Amanda, the biker chick on American Idol has extreme hair, but Judge Judy? She continued..."Have you ever worn your hair short?" Since I had come in with short hair and wasn't there for the "make it longer" special, I had to say that yes, I was accustomed to short hair. Then I started blithering around about how I didn't want to look like a boy, but I wanted it tapered in back, and I wanted the top kind of long and I wanted it to have fullness and...and...and...

She pointed out to me that the picture didn't show the back so how did she know what the back was supposed to look like? Then she started firing other questions at me; "Did she need to blend my part?" (I don't know--you tell me!) "How long did I want my longest layers to be?" (Just make it look like the picture!) "Did I want a hard or soft edge over my ears?" (I don't know--what does Judge Judy have?) "Did I want texture?" (Doesn't everyone?) Finally, she tired of the pointless inquisition and started cutting. I fussed with it a little when I got out to the car. In the rear view mirror I looked a little like Hitler, sans moustache. Now that I'm home, I haven't done anything with it yet. It will be a fun surprise tomorrow to see if I can make it look anything like the picture or like anything at all.

What other professional insists that you pass an oral test before they give you what you came for? Does the dentist ask you how you want that amalgam mixed before he fills your tooth? Do the yard guys ring the doorbell and quiz you about how high to set the mower before they start? Maybe there are women who can speak the language of hair, but I'm not one of them. If the past two Memory Monday pictures don't prove that, then cast your gaze over this proof:

My interpretation of Carnaby Street style, circa 1968.

Bill seems a little leery of the frizzy mop!

Apparently, we had a "two for the price of one" coupon.

Oh well, the good thing about a bad haircut is it doesn't last forever.

Memory Monday

Memory Monday

Viva Mariachi!

For Bill's birthday I got him tickets to the third annual Mariachi Festival at the magnificent Fox Theater, a local movie palace, built in 1930 and restored to its former grandeur. The Fox seats 1,500 people, and it was a sold-out crowd. I'm telling you all this to set the scene, so that you can better picture our experience Saturday night. Let me tell you, somebody made a few bucks off this event. Tickets were $80.00 apiece! (Which might make you assume, as I did, that people who don't know how to behave in public were priced out of the experience. Never make assumptions...you know what they say!) Let me begin by answering a few questions which I'm sure you have:

1. What makes it a festival, rather than just a concert?

Well, for one thing, it was four hours long. And for another thing, there was a HIGH level of audience animation which qualifies it as a "festive" event.

2. Were there a lot of North Americans in the audience?

We saw three others. Perhaps Bill, as a very white person, is unique in his love of this particular genre. Everything was conducted in Spanish, the announcer being a local Spanish radio host whose style ran more towards swap meet/WWF cage fight than what I've see at other live musical events.

3. Did you enjoy it?

Actually, I did. And Bill liked it A LOT. There were three groups, culminating in the final group which is considered the world's foremost mariachi group, Mariachi Vargas. They are the ones that played on the Linda Ronstadt album, "Canciones..." We actually liked the second group best. They interacted a lot with the audience and I even got serenaded. The problem was that by the time the final group performed, 80% of the audience was falling-down drunk. To summarize my experience, I would say that it greatly elevated my opinion of Mexican music and confirmed my worst opinions of Mexican audiences.

4. What do you mean when you say that the audience was "animated?"

Perhaps I can fuel your imagination by describing the empty beverage containers at my feet (left by the lady next to me) at the end of the evening. There were three 16oz. tequila bottles, two beer bottles and a mixed drink glass. I'm not a drinker, but that seemed like a lot to me. She was matched drink for drink by her two companions. The three of them made at least a dozen trips each to the bar and/or bathroom, requiring us to stand up each time to let them pass. But they were not alone. At any given time, probably a fourth of the audience was out of their seats, with constant coming and going. But the movement took a back seat to the noise. By the time the last group performed, it was like an audience full of coyotes calling to each other across three large counties. You know how in a neighborhood one barking dog can set off three or four others? Imagine a thousand Chihuahuas trying to outdo each other with yips, trills and "ayyayayayayayaya!!!!". Add to that the swaying in the aisles and the swooning over the more handsome crooners, and you've got yourself a festival.

To conclude, I was really impressed with the level of talent and skill of the performers. Not only is each one a highly skilled musician, but most of them are exceptionally talented singers, as well. They are to a mariachi group who performs on Friday nights at the local bean burrito emporium what fillet minion is to hot dogs. It was a real treat to hear them. I just wish more of the audience had been listening!