Shear Wizard performs Hair Raising Feat
by Aya D.B. Holder
Just got shorn.
For six years, there has been a tiny, ignored group of perfectionists who put up with my silly shredlocks. Lopping them off was fun, and went in stages.
-The drunken woman gazing in the hotel mirror playing with scissors.
-The sober woman de-tangling the remaining five inches of ‘grasshoppers’ a few months later.
-The canny recipient of Pat Leo’s emphatic sponsorship: a haircut in a real salon by her artist friend Melina Meru.
Melina’s a woman who’s worked with hair ever since 1960.
I was gowned , goo’d and rinsed. Meanwhile, I gabbled on about everything from sodium laurel sulfate to chlorogallum root, when Melina called for silence and asked me to bury my chin in my neck.
“Some hair you have” she said, pondering the two cowlicks in my self-cropped thatch. “I need to concentrate”.
The scissors’ pleasing pulling went on for forty minutes… pinches of gray hair dropping into my satiny lap and all around the chair.
It being Larkspur (home of the Larkspur Canyon Gang), half the salon were mountain bikers, including pudgy Greg from Freewheelers Club and Dorrette the triathete, one of the stylists. They told me about thedisplay at the town library across the street featuring the ‘gang’ who held formal dinners up in Silvertree Canyon (now called Dawn Falls Canyon) in the late 1960’s.
When Melina had finished with me, I got an ‘after’ shot, then hopped out of the chair, rolled my bike out, remembered that I had a flat that I’d incurred a minute before entering the shop that I’d have to deal with, and push-biked over to the library for a look at the 2009 Mtn Bike Hall of Fame inductees.