I am back.  I was TRYING to get back to writing regularly a few blogs back but clearly I have now made it.  I am back and typing almost every day!  Woohoo, look at me go…..

But back with what?  Car trouble, city madness and living in a moho with an invalid is hardly compelling reading…..I should do better.  But, with what?  Hmmm……in the absence of anything better, why not try worse?  I am tempted to go all ‘Seinfeld’ on ya and write about things so ordinary, you are fascinated at the mundanity, things so banal, you wonder about my sanity, things so boring, you can use my blogs to put you to sleep.

How’m I doin’ so far..?

So, let’s do updates for a bit:  Sal is doing good.  Very good. She even wants to go to the fabric store and limp and stumble around until she is in outrageous pain.  That has to be the 51st shade of grey, don’t you think?  If you don’t think that, you are wrong.  Her object is to find the perfect shade of grey for her next quilt.

I ‘bought a haircut’ yesterday and that is kinda news as Sal has cut my hair for the last fifteen years (save for a few times a sadist in Hong Kong cut my hair but Sal is my go-to sheep shearer mostly because I do not have far to go-to).  This time I went to a chain-clip-joint.  “What is your name and phone number?”

“You don’t need that.  I am just here for a haircut.”

“The computer will not let me in without a name.”

“Use yours.”

“Huh?”

“Well, I am not in your computer ’cause I have never been here before, so you do NOT have to find me or my account.  I will also never likely come back because my wife usually cuts my hair and….well, I am disinclined to be put on your database.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.  David Cox.”

“Can you spell that please?”

“C – O – X”.

“Sorry.  One more time……”

She tried again.  Then she turned to an older lady and said, “The computer won’t let me in.  Is it because he only has one name?”

“That’s right.  He needs two names!”

“Cox Cox.  Go ahead.  Try Cox Cox.”

“Umh…could you spell it please?  And, your phone number?”

“Oh my god!  I live remote.  No phone.  We use pigeons to deliver messages out there.  Sometimes our dogs. ”

“Really?  That’s amazing.  But the computer needs a phone number.”

I slowly bang my forehead on the counter.  She smiles.  I slowly and clearly give my phone number.

“Unh…..could you say that number again, please?”

“Geez, Ronnie (that was her name), I am NOT going to have this conversation with you anymore.  If you need more information to give me a haircut, then use your own address, phone number and blood type.  I am done talkin’ here.”

“Unh, why would we need your blood type?”

To her credit, she continues to fill in the form and I am hoping she just used her own info rather than making ‘notes’ on my file.  More than likely, I am being classified as troublesome.   Which actually appeals to me in a weird shades-of-some-colour-kinda way.

“How would you like me to style your hair today?”

“Ronnie.  Oh, Ronnie.  Look at me.  I have a crew cut, a brush-cut.  My hair is uniformly 3/8″ long.  If you can style it, knock your self out.  But, if the challenge is too daunting for you, please just find your 3/8″ clipper attachment and simply buzz me all over.  And, when I say ‘all over’, I mean all over MY HEAD only!”

“Huh?”

“Just a buzz-cut, please.”

In case you missed it due to sudden onset drowsiness, the above haircut episode is a nano-example of city madness.  I may be boring but at least I wrap it up at the end.