Don't Stare, It's Flair Hair

Remember when "frosted tip" hair was cool? Then cool kids wore visors with their frosted tips spiked out? Then the even cooler kids wore them backwards and upside down. Then boy bands became cool and they wore visors backwards and upside down. Then boy bands became lame. Then visors became even lamer. Then frosted tips became lamest of all. Only middle aged lesbians can pull of frosted tips and visors these days.

On a side note, the style has changed, but the types of guys who sported them remain the same. They're simply called Bros.

Well, there is an older generation that is digging back into 1998 to bring back the look. How ever, the frosted tip hair isn't their own. Visors with spiky hair already poking out are springing up all over in public places like a noxious weed. Their called Flair Hair. What started out, I am sure, as a gag, is now becoming a fashion statement from Bro-hell. Some strange phenomena is going on here. Men in midlife crisis put on one of these hairy visors instead of buying Just For Men. The wearers of these hats can go from respectable business men, to vulturous douche bags in no time flat.

Note to the makers of these visors: Maybe your next product should include pencil-thin, well-trimmed, chinstrap/goatee/mustache combo.

I have provide examples of subjects of my whimsical rant.


So real, It's scary.









Because I have been seeing these hats more and more lately, I decided to write this entry. I observed this last Thursday at lunch.

This man sat down at the table while his wife ordered his food. I thought to myself, what's with these hats? I am seeing them every where!

The hair on top matched his real hair. White.








Then his friend sat down next to him, wearing the same hat, but a different shade of hair color. Grey.










This post needs a conclusion, but I want the reader to draw their own. If you own one of these hats, I hope you bought it because you thought it was funny. I sure do.

A Boy and His Bus

A bus is a funny thing. Not so much when it's empty, but once it is full of passengers.

Imagine for a minute, while driving down the Interstate, that you had x-Ray vision and you are looking at a bus. The bus disappears out from underneath its passengers and there they are, exposed, sitting there, just moving through space, doing their own things. Trust me, it's funny to think about after you've thought about it for a while.

Then there are the passengers, themselves.

There are those who demand the front seat, claiming they need it for road sickness when all they really want is a better view. But what about those who need the front seat? They struggle up the four steep steps, holding up the line. If it's a disabled woman, usually the husband is barking orders at her to move along quickly because she is making a scene.

There are the retired bus drivers who ask questions every time the bus stops, like "Do I smell brakes?" "Is this a Detroit Diesel?" "You runnin' your Jakes down that hill?" "What grade is this?" Or comments like, "Hey buddy, I hear a tick coming from the back of the bus. I hope it's not your dualies." (Short for dual tires) These are my least favorite passengers because they lower the morale of the other passengers. They convince the others, with little persuasion, that the bus is going to break down. Suddenly, they have become the expert.

Then there are the young families that sit in the back by the bathrooms, not only trying to keep their kids quite, but suffering the smell of chemicals and urine every time someone opens the door to use the bathroom. Then there are those who always need a bathroom. Every time the bus stops they wonder where the bathroom is, or when the next one will be available.

Then there are the language barrier passengers that feel that because no one understands what they are saying, they can talk as loud as they feel. If you're on a tour bus, this can become extremely frustrating for both the guide and those trying to listen.

And finally, there are the diamonds in the rough. Those who actually enjoy the ride. They are glad that they are sitting down, out of the sun, out of the rain, just watching the scenery go by. They let their minds wander to places that their legs probably can't take them any more. They are happy to be sitting next to the ones they love, or thinking about the ones they left behind. When the ride comes to an end, while everyone else is pushing and shoving to be the first one off, as if the first foot to hit the ground claims the territory, these dear old passengers grab the bus driver's hand and thank them for the ride.

Here are some pictures from a boy and his bus.

New Territories

This probably is not the most interesting blog entry, but because I started it off with this sentence, you will read through it anyway.

This entry his been written as I sit outside along the Klondike Highway connecting South East Alaska with the rest of the outside world. I am waiting to play crossing guard for 8 people on trail horses, while the rest are paddling canoes. I am watching the locals buy off-sale alcohol at Spirit Lake Wilderness Resort because the grocery store lost their license to sell alcohol due to an ownership change. A salmon salad sandwich awaits me inside.

I love to travel. I have yet to expand my horizons to a new continent, but someday I will. For now, I have to explore my own country. It's obvious that I am a simple minded fellow, thus I find comfort in my wonderful union of states. I am going to make a list my 2010 state destinations and I expect anyone who reads this to hold me to accomplishing this goal.

Tennessee
(Because you're the only 10 I see)

Hawaii
(Just to say I've been)

New Mexico
(Something, or someone, is enchanting about this state)

All different in geography, culture, and scenery. That's what I love about the US. How many countries are there in the world that are smaller than states in the US? I don't know, but I am sure there are several, meaning that citizens of those countries don't have the opportunities to experience different territories with the luxury of staying in their own country.