In 1986 I was frantically trying to grow my hair to be accepted into the elite club known as 'Heavy Metal' - despite the usual obstacles - parents / teachers / school kids and the constant barrage of abuse from 'towners' calling me well thought out insults such as 'gypo', 'jitter' and the classic 'longair' (the silent h is full affect). I persisted and by 1989 was a fully fledged dirty greaser, even though by that time i had pretty much changed my musical tastes and swapped the Motley Crue records for Minor Threat. By 1992 i had become sick of it and it had become a huge swarming mess of matted dreadlocks, Emerdale Farm-esuqe sideburns and worst of all crimped Grebo style fringes. I made the decision to shave it off and go for a number 3 all over and that pretty much lasted til 2009. Fast forward to september 2011 and i have been growing my hair for 2 years. The locks are flowing past my shoulders and i have achieved my goal but i can't help feeling i will be 40 next year and it really is a pathetic state of affairs for a man my age trying to re-live his adolescence. Weirdly since my hair has grown, not once have i endured any social commentary from others (unlike the 1980's) or been verbally persecuted by anyone. Im my own worst enemy and it's those voices from my own mind that are battling it out whether to keep it growing as one last ' throw of the dice' or 'for fucks sake cut it short - you look like Peter Stringfellow'. I know there is a middle ground but I'm not rational and never do things by halves. One things for sure the dreads and crimps will never triumph on my bonce again for as long as i live...
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