Buzz cut.

It occurred to me in the wee hours of this morning that today was, eighteen years ago, the day I buzzed off my hair and began a journey that continues to this day.  I was something of a pissed off, wannabe rebel 16-year-old and after feeling frustrated with my long hair in my face and doing nothing for my "image", I shaved that shit off to a #3 with some borrowed clippers.  I remember my younger sister being there in the bathroom to help me, but she refused to do the first pass of the clippers.  Oh, the adrenaline!  

I had done a few semi-rebellious things to my hair in my younger years as an adolescent, but this entire buzzing of my whole head was taking it to the next level.  I don't recall the reaction of my friends and family being too extreme.  Nonetheless, there was a reaction. . . just as I was beckoning by doing something so radical to my own hair like that.  I didn't get in any trouble with the folks, they knew I was beyond their control at that point and I'm sure a buzz cut on their daughter wasn't of terrible concern.  What could they do?  It was already gone.  A few weeks later, I bought my first grocery store boxed hair color and lightened my hair as much as that cheap crap would do to my new do.

That was really the turning point for me in regards to, from that point on, I've never stopped messing around with hair.  And how fitting that my first haircut on myself was a clipper cut.  Destined to be a barber.  Not only did this soft-core-shocking event change the way I saw myself, literally and figuratively, I unknowingly put myself on the path to being a barber.  Because I wanted to keep my sick, punk rock hairdo fresh, I bought some cheap clippers at Walgreens.  And when I had my own clippers at home, plus two younger brothers, home haircuts in the bathroom ran rampant!  Much to the delight of my mother, I'm sure.  Later on down the road of my life, I would cut hair for guy friends in Vail, and eventually left Vail as a young adult to come to Denver to go to hair school. 

That silly buzz cut.  I wore it for at least a year and a half before growing it into a more normal cut.  Looking back, I have to admit that I knew at the time that shaving my head as a teenager would alter the course of my life in some way, it had to.  It's amazing to look back tonight on that evening eighteen(!!!)years ago when I looked at myself, looked at my sister, and ran those clippers across the top of my head.