Oh The Lamentable Horror!
I went to the barber today and as fortune would have it had a very chatty, not very attentive, new young lady whacking at my head. To my utter amazement just as the words ‘Isn’t it a bit short’ were about to come out of my mouth, the clippers went down the center of my head and I knew all was lost. I would advise you, dear reader, to make sure your hair attendant pays actual attention to what she or he is doing rather than regaling you with stories of how she had a very low electric bill for several months…

It hasn’t been that short since I left the Army in 1981.
UPDATE: In response to James Crossley’s comment (see below) I began to wonder, why is it that with the recent haircut folk would begin to be in fear of me. And then it hit me like a bolt from the blue… perhaps it’s because there’s some sort of distant family relation between myself and the infamous Philip Davies… Look, compare, decide… Is Philip one of my British relatives from somewhere back in ancient days? My ancestors were, after all, Brits… If so, the fear is explained! And maybe, just maybe, the haircut wasn’t such a bad thing after all… Now, a mustache?







