Highland cattle seem to revel in having long hair - I’m afraid I don’t! As far as us Homo sapiens are concerned it’s very much a male/female thing I suppose.
Although aging male rock stars seem to have the same appreciation of this hirsute affectation on a par with the aforementioned highland cattle.
Therefore, to me, the recent change in COVID lockdown rules that facilitated the ability to have one’s hair cut was most welcome and I’m sure that this applied to all genders. Walking through our local high street often gave the impression of being part of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, or failing that a convocation of cave persons (who, coincidentally, also had an interest in rock at one time).
Fortunately, being as perspicacious as possible, I had long ago managed to obtain an appointment with my long-time hairdresser, who had affectedly condescended to grant me this valuable commodity. His first comment when I arrived was to ask whether I needed an anaesthetic and I had to remind him that he ought to watch what he was saying as I had made almost a career out of making silly dumb comments myself.
Anyway, there I was, surrounded by a field of grey, indulging Marcus in conversation. I’ve known him since my hair was an appealing light brown. I asked him how he was getting on with his renewed acquaintance with ‘short back and sides’. He informed me that he had decided to have leaflets printed answering the following questions: Yes, I have found the lockdown boring; Yes, I managed to survive financially; Yes, I was able to cut my own hair; Yes, I did manage to go out for a walk on most days; No, I didn’t catch COVID; Yes, I have had one COVID injection; Yes, of course I’ll cut your eyebrows. Do you get the picture? The idea was that he could then peacefully carry on with the business of cutting hair without having to answer a series of tediously familiar questions!
In recent articles I have tended to avoid writing about COVID as I am sure that your mind would have been overloaded with such stuff. But here we are - hopefully – on our way back to some sort of normal, although I’m sure that this will not be the sort of normal we were used to.
COVID War II was in fact a different matter to COVID War I. For a start we in the UK had the winter weather to contend with during the second time around and in fact the weather last year was a whole lot better anyway; and Christmas was more a matter of comfort than joy. We spent a lot of time at the beginning just simply hunkering down and watching repeats on the TV, the only excitement was that of waiting to be told if we had been selected for vaccination. This naturally injected some excitement into the household.
Mechanical things tended to break down more than usual, the latest being the dishwasher. We had no idea what a social event the mere act of washing up was. Funny thing really, you buy a dishwasher because washing up has become such a chore, then before you know where you are, unloading it becomes an equal, if not worse, chore. You never can win! We shouldn’t complain really, we’ve had our washer for over fifteen years.
When it came to buying a new one, the nice man in the shop told us that with modern machines you’d be lucky to get five years of use. Holy moly – what ever happened to saving the world?
Nevertheless, as we approach the likelihood of a further end to COVID restrictions and the possibility of a holiday, we now find that there is talk of a third wave – which I must confess is almost the sum total of my physical communication with my Grandchildren.
What did you do in the war Grandad? Not a lot really, I did quite a bit of rambling. You certainly did!
So it’s worth remembering that most of us have managed to get through more than a year of pandemic. We mustn’t forget the sadness that has been caused through the resultant loss of life and the deleterious effect on people’s health and livelihoods. Nor must we forget the inevitable and probably permanent impact on our existence. But I’ve a suspicion that more people than we would care to imagine have secretly enjoyed the last twelve or so months.
I recall, at the beginning of March 2020, when the UK’s revered leader informed us that ‘Lockdown’ might conceivably last until early May, and we all thought: “What!” Or words to that effect. Well here we are a whole year later. We’re still keeping going and we’re told that a major beneficiary is Mother Nature - although for quite how long remains to be seen. I just hope that we are not in for any more hair raising experiences!