Never mix New Year’s Day with long hair | Life Happens
Believe me when I say shoulder-length hair and New Year’s Day do not mix, and should never be allowed to.
This year marks 50 years (yes, I am dating myself) since I experienced a New Year’s Day born from Murphy’s Law. No doubt you’re familiar with Murphy’s Law in that “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” Well, my experience inspired re-writing that phrase to read, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong and at the worst possible time.”
It was Jan. 1, 1973, a time when I sported shoulder-length coal black hair and possessed an accident-prone nature.
The day got off to a bad start before I got out of bed. During the night, my hair somehow got entangled around my arm, making it difficult for me to raise my head. I lay motionless for a moment or two, counting the stars and massaging my aching neck.
I stumbled downstairs to the dining table to join the family for breakfast. I lowered myself into my chair only to have the chair collapse beneath me, sending French toast and maple syrup into the air and onto my hair.
I dusted myself off, grabbed another chair and resumed my place at the table. As I raised my hand to brush my hair out of my eyes, I knocked over a glass of orange juice into my sister’s plate, splattering the sticky sweet stuff into my face and beloved tresses. Talk about a domino effect and it wasn’t even 7 a.m.
The rest of the day went smoothly. Dad busied himself assembling a 1,000-piece puzzle he received for Christmas, mom prepared the holiday meal and my siblings amused themselves with board games. It had been more than 10 hours since my last mishap and I figured the worst was behind me.
However, fate had other plans when I went searching for an ornament I believed had fallen off one of the branches and landed somewhere between the packages taking up temporary residence beneath the tree. After a quick search, I found the missing ornament. However, as I raised my head, I pressed my hair against some sticky pine sap-covered needles, sending me to the shower.
Even now, I tremble when handling a bottle of maple syrup.
Dad suggested cutting my hair since I was having so much trouble. “Are you serious? My hair brings me good luck!” I replied. Dad rolled his eyes and exited the room.
That night I went to bed in a foul mood, irritated that my lengthy locks were the target of derision. I was miserable and all I got was insults. Despite all I had endured, I decided to take my dad’s advice and have my ears lowered which pleased my hard-core conservative parents no end. Sheesh!
Of course, my shoulder-length tresses are long gone, replaced by shorter, snow white-colored locks that each year go from parted to unparted to departed.
So, I hope you understand why combining shoulder-length hair and New Year’s Day doesn’t work for me. This is why I believe New Year’s resolutions are something that goes in one year and out the other. In fact, my New Year’s resolutions for 2024 is to stop answering people who ask me about my New Year’s resolutions.
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William J. Dagendesh is an author, writer and retired U.S. Navy photojournalist, editor and public affairs officer. He has lived in southern Colorado 24 years. Contact William with comments or ideas for his column at nutmeg120395@yahoo.com.
William J. Dagendesh