I gotta $6 haircut yesterday and I paid too much. I was tryin’ to spend a little father/son time with Nathan and we decided we’d get spikey haircuts together. Now, he’s got a FULL head of hair being eleven and not yet wounded by the world, all stressed out and shit. His shit looked great, mine…not so much. All MY haircut lady did was complain about her neck and how bad it hurt. Waaaa Waaa Waaa!!! Damn bitch! Loose your best friend and get your dad some open heart surgery all in the same two weeks! OK never mind, you wouldn’t understand. Just like you didn’t understand my explanation of the rock star haircut that I wanted! Ya know, ya can’t even be a rock star anymore. Nobody gets it! You can cry until you’re blue in the face about how good you are, “I swear, I’m really good, would you please have a listen at this buttrockin’, bumpin’, fun and funny tune I wrote!” “Too dumb!?” “OK, check this out I can write smart shit too!?” “Need a song with heart? Listen to this!”
Oh, it’s maddening, but after a while you just give up, you play the songs you love, even put them on in the kitchen, drink wine and dance to them late in the night, and you just hope and pray that what you believe is true, that you DON’T suck and your shit is the best shit that has ever been recorded. Even if it’s not, it is to you!
Then all you got to worry about is your hair!