Judgment Days

My nephew has a very funky haircut. Joan Jett meets Liza gone awry. He does it himself. It’s very long in the front, brushed forward and flattened against his face with a certain Goth aesthetic? Or is it Emo? Some sort of hairy something that this old man does not have prior experience with.

It’s very dramatic. Add to this: it has stripes of orange in it. It is cut shorter at the crown of the head in a layer above the long hair so there’s this mini Dr. Zeuss thing going on. The whole do, besides the stripes, is dyed jet black and ironed flat.

Add to this the tight pants, the studded belt, funky shoes, underwear hanging out the back and being quite tall, this guy, at seventeen, cuts quite a visual swath in the world.

While we were in Paris, we went to many restaurants and no one blinked. But one place where we had dinner was in full light with tight tables. We sat at a banquette. On one side next to us was a German couple. The woman of the duo looked at my nephew and a look of disgust came over her face. She quickly turned away. On the other side of us was a French businessman who was eating alone. His look toward my nephew was truly hateful with disdain, a Gallic disapproval that was fleeting yet forceful.

And there I was, the old guy guardian and all I could think was, “I can’t believe my nephew goes out in the world with that hair. Doesn’t he feel the negativity that comes at him?”

And then, quickly, I realized it was my discomfort I was concerned about. Why in the world should I care what people think about anyone, at all? I made the transition over a period of two or three minutes. I actively pursued this acceptance.

I switched fully. I felt proud that my nephew could sit there, in his hair, and just be what he wanted to be while others were unhappy about it. And that made me feel free. And isn’t that the trick? To feel free here?

The French businessman froze his gaze forward for the rest of the night. The German woman started to ask us about our desserts. Apparently, chocolate mousse trumps Bay City Roller Head meets ostrich.