Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Like most people do, I tend to talk to my hairdresser while I'm getting my hair cut. Usually, I'm the one who does most of the talking, but yesterday she was particularly chatty and I learned a lot about her.

For one thing, I learned her sister is also getting married this year, in October. If she mentioned that before when I was talking about my sister's wedding preparations, I don't remember. But apparently, instead of a bridal shower, they just took her out for some drinks.

She commented that my hair looks darker now that we finally cut all the highlights out of it. The highlights she's referring to were put in a couple years ago by her. I happen to know I'd developed some natural highlights since then, but I haven't spent as much time in the sun lately, which is why it would darken.

I commented that my hair is about the same color as my paternal grandfather's at the time he died, and as an aside said that he died of a heart attack just before my dad was born. She told me that her grandfather died of an infected boil when her father was only 4.

Apparently, her father had a troubled childhood. There were nine kids, and some physical abuse. The mother also used her children as breadwinners, taking in laundry and whatever they could do. My hairdresser did concede, though, that might have been the only thing a single mother of nine could have done at the time, before federal assistance. The only way the government would help was by taking your children off your hands.

There was a school in the area, Girard College, that boys could attend. If the state took them to the college, parents wouldn't have to pay anything for their weekly upkeep but could take them on the weekends if they wanted. This was what her grandmother made for one of her uncles. Without telling him, she drove him there or put him on a bus and sent him off. The rest of the family claims he's distant, even to this day.

Her sister's fiancé, she told me, is a vegetarian and a natural health enthusiast. He is currently living with his brother, sister and nephew, at least until the wedding. Their son, his nephew, is a bit of a problem child. This might be in part attributed to how his parents raised him.

For example, the nephew was riding his bicycle and got into an accident that pushed the handlebars into his chest, creating a pretty ugly bruise. When he came back to the house, the fiancé looked through his health books and discovered this could be the sign of a bigger problem, so he told his brother to take the nephew to the hospital. His brother refused, saying it was just a scrape.

The kid went to school the next day and the school nurse examined him and said he must go the emergency room, because he might have internal bleeding. At this point it was harder to follow her, because she was drying my hair, but I think they don't yet know if he's OK.

This nephew is somewhat bad tempered and has threatened one of his cousins, a girl a bit younger than him but bigger than him. My hairdresser told her that she ought to hit him back.

Then we got into a conversation about bullies and how standing up to a bully can be the best way to get rid of them. She said she never had much trouble in grade school because she had some tough older cousins and everyone knew not to mess with her. But strangely enough, in cosmetology school she ran into some people with attitudes. One of them got into it with her, but she stood up to her and the bully backed down.

I've known my hairdresser long enough to know that being aggressive in any way, even in self-defense, is somewhat out of character for her. So I can see how that would be shocking enough to make somebody think twice.

Of course, I had to confess that my big problem in school was not ever finding the proper way to deal with bullies. My parents told me to ignore them, but that didn't help. They'd just try harder to get a reaction. I couldn't tell Mom about it, because she'd tell the guidance counselor, who would call the bully down the office and read them the riot act. After that I'd be dead meat.

The only effective solution I ever found was to surround myself with friends. And to develop a sense of humor.

All in all, it was a really interesting conversation. Usually, the hairdresser's chair is a little like a confession; but yesterday, the priest took a turn.

Copyright 2005 by Alyce Wilson

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