HAIR

9.21.11

Today I littered. I blame a few variables, speed, wind, age and time. I was driving along the freeway in my Jeep, windows halfway down, when several pieces of my hair blew out the window, and regrettably I left them there. I thought about turning around but, by the time I was done second guessing myself, I was a mile down the road.

I instantly wondered if any were injured, in desperate need of CPR or some last minute prayer. What if they needed surgery, and casts, and months of physical therapy? Would they be kept from me forever, put in foster care, not told about me till they were 18?

On the other hand, perhaps, they were planning a robbery, and it wouldn't be long before I'd see them on breaking news channel 8 with the headlines, bank bandits on the run. How would they even hold up a bank? And the thought of them arrested with heavy handcuffs covering their tattoos, this was too overwhelming to think of. I dreaded the idea of picking them out of a lineup at the police station. I didn't have any really good descriptions. I knew they were brown with a few shades of red, smelled of hair gel, and yes there were split ends, but how do you tell split ends apart? Do you measure them in Milometers, by weight, by volume?...ahhh...

But.. what if they planned it for personal reasons-to find themselves, and they were excited for a new life. One that was heading for bigger things. I knew they were studying French but would they actually be trying to go to France? I didn't know. I felt like I had lost strangers.

I finally relieved my guilt by deciding that they would probably hitch hike back to me in time. Everyone knows hair is good with directions. And their memory is better then elephants.  So I drove home, turned the porch light on, and wondered.

Days like this are hard to live past.


`SIR IAC