My Life in the Fast Lane

Except for a few treks to the mailbox or to the end of the cul-de-sac, my life has been at a standstill for the last few months, the same as many of us, especially those of us who are vintage. No restaurants, no bars (the last time that Tom and I went to a bar was in 2006), no concerts (where is Joan Baez playing these days, anyway?). Everything I might do or want to do has been cancelled, so I’m looking for entertainment, something to liven my life up. But what?

I’ve started talking to my mirror, which isn’t all that bad because my reflection always agrees with me, nodding or shaking my head at whatever foolishness I throw its way. This week the mirror exclaimed in a loud, unwavering voice that I should get a hair fix, maybe an updo, that will make my sad life a little less dreary. I’m 74 years old with guess-what-color hair, and thought, why not? My lovely hairdresser is ultra clean and always calls me honey, so I think she will let me in.

I decided to check with Dr. Google for something interesting, fun, and easy to maintain. I wanted to take a picture with me to show her what I meant, so I Googled “cute hair styles for women over 70,” which seemed explicit enough, anticipating the three C’s to appear and give me guidance, you know, cut, curl, and color. I waited for a few seconds while the website jiggled and giggled, flashing a bit, like it does when it’s confused by the command, and then flash, bam, ala-kazam, the page for “cute hair styles for women over 70” opened. Well, what do you know? Google has given up on my ability to remedy my hair…it was a wig page. Sophia Loren and a couple other oldies but goodies stared at me advertising wigs—only $79.99 and all my troubles would be gone. My life would be back in the fast lane.

This can’t be right, I thought, so rebooted my iPhone and re-Googled the same request and, voila! Sophia popped up again, this time with Shirley Jones and Betty White. Wigs. Harrumph. This was very disconcerting because if Google has given up on my hair style, why shouldn’t I do the same? I guess I’ll take a picture of a wig to my lovely hairdresser.

A wig has to be more uncomfortable than a mask, doesn’t it? Please wear your mask!

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