shorn

As you saw in the previous photo, I've taken the plunge and have gotten my first haircut since Vancouver, WA, way back when. My thanks to Rachel (pictured earlier), who did a sterling job, and from whom I learned two things:

1. The unsightly line that demarcates the boundary between what the electric razor has done and what the scissors have done is called, in salon parlance, a shelf. Rachel did a great job of minimizing this.

2. An interreligious insight, and something I really haven't focused on: people of a given religious tradition often say things without thinking about how it might affect people of other traditions. This heedlessness, perhaps a function of incestuous amplification, is worth a post or two.

Anyway, my scalp is happy to be less shaggy. I'm on my way to Whitman College. More in a bit.


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