Seeing as many of my posts have so far been preoccupied with the messiness of my running game – and I did promise meanderings from the outset – I felt it was high time I spent some of my writerly energies on an altogether different, yet still universal, fixation:
Harry’s hair has featured heavily in my tiny world in the three years we’ve known and tolerated each other. The more time we’ve spent together, I’ve got to see how his happy, shiny burden governs his existence. This majestically curled, Warlockian forest, adds clout to an already high-punching persona. Without a doubt if you love Harry, Harry’s hair gets an equal portion.
It’s the first thing I see when I wake in the morning (quite literally. Our sleeping arrangement can end up a bit Sleeping Beauty’s castle in the 100-year period, with Harry’s hair as the mystical vine.). It’s the happy-cloudy outline I can spot from miles away when I’ve had a tiring day.
Shy retiring types hang off his every word, wanting an insight into his chosen hair care methods (I’ll let you into the secret: he is an unbending Tresemme man. What’s more, he’s landed upon a 2-in-1-shampoo-conditioner-condition-again regime he insists is a happy accident of misreading the label. And yet it keeps on happening… I’ll tell you though, the results are Worth It.)
Our conversations at the bar will be interrupted by beefy lads with clipped crops, dead-set on manfully fondling his curls without invitation. When approached for a simple tidy-up, barbers shy away, for fear their clippers will be too rudimentary to tame rather than maim the beast. Women want to know if he and my mum, who is similarly blessed, are mother and son (THEY ARE NOT), because what luck I must have to have two such hair-blessed souls in my inner circle?
I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d be aghast if it disappeared one day. That idea is just a bit too much Samson-and-Delilah jeopardy for my liking.
It would seem unnatural, somehow… and when you think about it, hair is an anagram of…
Anyway, as anyone who knows Harry will know, he has some powers; even more-so now the Hair is edging closer to its Everest: the full-blown Robert Plant.
Two years on from his last trim, this prospect still excites me to the core. Why? For the same reason I’m intrigued by Tokyo, and impressed by beards. It’s all about reclaiming space.
And this rate of growth means there’s just more Harry by the day…