Skip to content

Nuancing the good woman

October 29, 2009

When I was in law school, we used to encourage one another with these words: “there’s always beauty school.” This is not a faithful saying, nor is it worthy of any acceptance whatever. Most of us never would have made it through beauty school. But beauty school was code for a refuge for  the kind of dumb.

I have had several hairdressers over the years who were reasoning beings, as well as a few who were possibly employed a little above full capacity. I can say the same for the population of lawyers I’ve known over the years.

Now, the woman who cuts my hair is a good woman. And what, you might ask, covert nuance of character am I trying to suggest with this epithet? Is even “good woman” code? This good woman was a bit under the weather today, but very cheerful as always. She was surprised to learn that I have a diabetic cat; she is surprised to learn this every month. I went through the drill again: layered ends, keep enough length that I can pull it all into a ponytail; you know, I’m just trying to maintain the same length. I hate change.  She asked whether she should take the same two inches off that she trimmed last month. She asks this every month. Hair grows half an inch a month. If she trimmed two inches off every month, within a year, she would be out of a job, and I would have no more worries about a crooked part.

But she’s a good woman, and I like her a lot. When she asked if I had read anything by John Hagee, I brought her a copy of Arthur Pink’s The Sovereignty of God when I came the following month. The month after that, I asked how she was liking Arthur Pink. She said she liked him a lot. I think this good woman likes everyone a lot. She’s still reading John Hagee’s book; she can’t put it down.

In praise of this good woman, I have to say that she is probably trying to urge me toward a bit more style. I think she thinks Seattle Grunge becomes me. Today, she finished up my trim, but didn’t happen to comb my hair back out of my face. She handed me a mirror, and I said I couldn’t see. She’s a good woman; she handed me my glasses. So I re-created Cheryl’s new style for me for the purpose of this one exclusive photo op.

Note to Heidi: I am not trying to copy your house-Mufti look! This was an original created just for me. :-)

Advertisements
2 Comments
  1. October 29, 2009 6:09 pm

    Such a flattering hairstyle for your nose! I rarely resort to initial speak, but LOL. Ruben wonders if you’re any relation to ‘Cousin It’?

  2. October 29, 2009 6:30 pm

    I don’t know; was It in Normandy in the 11th century?

Comments are closed.