While I am of the opinion that the bob will reign forever, there are few hairstyles that have long outlived their usefulness, mainly the mullet and the mohawk.
I'm not sure why the mullet ever came to be, except perhaps it was a practical way to shade your neck if you didn't have a hat (fyi, the female mullet is wrong under all circumstances). The mohawk, as I understand it, was a statement of outrage and punk attitude at the start.
What I do know is that I should not be seeing either of them on a potbellied, sweatshirt-wearing man in the seat in front of me at the movie theater and yet tonight, against all reason, I did.
Earlier this evening my true love and I went on a date. For us, this means that once a month we drop the kiddos off at the school for Parent's Night Out from 6 p.m. -10 p.m. The kids look forward to this like it's the biggest treat in the world (well, Mikayla doesn't care yet, but Mia and Maggie look forward to PNO very, very much).
We dutifully show up as the church bells are striking 6, leave our cherubs with pizza money and teachers, walk to the car, and look at each other wondering what we're supposed to do next.
Frequently we drive to the mall, which has a movie theater, get there, decide we might as well eat, look at the movies playing, decide ticket prices are highway robbery, wonder if we should shop, then realize that our best shopping haunts are Goodwill, the consignment store, Ross and TJ Maxx because we're cheapskates, sit on a bench, hold hands, and try not to fall asleep.
A bit before 10 we roust ourselves, wander back to school to pick up our sweeties, munch on leftover pizza from the school, bring them home, put them to bed, and then sit on the sofa next to each other, holding toes (because we have a big sofa and we each like to lean on the armrest so we really can't hold hands easily) and go to sleep.
We are the life of the party, I tell you. Pure, raving excitement 24/7 around here.
I have no idea why I gave you so much detail. On with the rest of the story.
Tonight we went to the mall, ate pretzel bites, loaded my purse with cinnamon bears and Swedish fish from the candy store, and went to see Unstoppable.
(Which was very suspenseful and good, minus the expletives which I didn't like hearing but were placed in the story line at spots where a simple, "Well, Daisy Dumplings!" wouldn't effectively convey the depth of emotion of the characters dealing with impending death.)
In the seat in front of me was a man with a mohawk. Not a young, punk rocker kid. Nope, a man older than myself, hair shaved except for a two-by-two-inch landing strip down his noggin. Not spiked. Just lying there like a scalped toupee.
I begged Isaiah to take a picture of it. He refused, saying it would be rude.
I reminded him of the photo I talked him into taking during our PNO date in October, where we went to a yummy hibachi steakhouse and sat next to a couple on a first date who checked their phones all night long and whose most animated conversation came when they were comparing phone features. It was a hilariously date of what not to do.
Tonight, in response to my nagging, Isaiah pulled out his phone and I held my hand in front of, but to the side of the mohawk, as though I was newly engaged and needed to send an MMS photo of the ring. We were close snapping the photo but…
… There was no flash. I have finally found an area where the features of my Blackberry are better than the features of his iPhone! Victory! (I hate the iPhone because I hate touch screens, but I do have to admit it's a pretty sweet little piece of technology)
(And once again I ramble. Focus, focus, focus.)
So, defeated, I came home, put the kids to bed, and pondered the complexity of a middle-aged man sporting a wimpy mohawk then decided to find a picture for you on Google images that would express the strangeness of the sight.
I Googled "Mohawk."
These shoes came up. I could search no more.
These shoes are being purchased by someone, somewhere, this season. They were designed for the 2010 Yves Saint Laurent collection. I am overcome.
Perhaps I should buy them and wear them taped to my head to imitate my mohawk man. That would make a fashion statement.
I have no more words.
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