For that handful of visitors who may wonder why I’ve opted to use an avatar here, this bit of iPhone self-portraiture should neatly explain everything. Try to ignore my look of trepidation and let’s have a soul-searching discussion about my hair, shall we? It is not an inexpensive cut and yet everyday it looks like David Lynch, Bryan Ferry and Old-School Hugh Grant are all fighting for domination of my scalp . . .

This is not some seasonal anomaly, some low-humidity Winter Thing; this is basically what it looks like all year ’round. Horrifying as this may seem, the cut is remarkably consistent: It looks like this as I make my entrance at a dinner party and it also looks like this after I’ve accidently turned the leaf blower on myself while attaching the cord. So clearly, one of these circumstances is getting the not-so-short, hirsute end off things. I’m either turning up to dinner with leaf-blower hair or getting lawn debris to the curb with an inappropriate haircut. If only I know which one it was.

But I’ve digressed; sod the consistency of thing. The problem is that it clearly needs to make up it’s mind: Lynch, Ferry, or Grant; just chose, for god’s sake.

Sincere apologies for this post; 20 minutes ago I didn’t know I’d be writing this. But loping back to my office with a fresh cup of coffee, I passed by a print under highly reflective glass and it suddenly seemed the right time to confront my Hair Problem. Because admitting there’s a problem is always the first step to fixing it. But until then, I’ve made a mental note not to lose my avatar file–all indications are that I’ll be using it in the foreseeable future.