My little sister doesn’t like it. My mom tolerates it (”It looks so nice when you pull it back.”). My big sister thinks it’s cool (big sister also had a VW Bug with flower decals when she was 18).

Give me a head with hair...

We went to dinner New Year’s Eve at a mid-priced steakhouse and the old lady across from us stared at me with a look of disgust for most of her meal. I could only smile at her.

Sure, I’ve had my dalliances with short hair. When I was a little kid Dad would take me to the barber who would take it nice and short and whisk my face with the brush. Dad would settle up with him and I would get a piece of Chum Gum. As the ’60s progressed and the counterculture became more and more mainstream I was drawn to the styles of the musicians on the covers of the 45s I would buy at Grants and Singer. If it was good for John, Paul, George and Ringo it was good for me. By 1972 I was 10 years old and sporting hair long enough to prompt Dad’s buddies to call me ‘Alice.’ The joke was on them.

Ten years later it was a social imperative to cut (and spike) your hair. I jumped in with no hesitation. The ’80s carried on and before long there was reason (once again) to flaunt it against The Man. Thank you, Ronald Reagan, Moral Majority, Tipper Gore, and the Christian Coalition. By 1990 it was longer than ever.

The last time short hair happened was in the late ’90s. We were visiting Becky’s family in New York and a particularly charismatic NY hairdresser talked me into it. To be honest, I did it for my then future mother-in-law because she had been so awesome to accept me as I was (and her response to my new flattop was well worth the risk).

I managed to keep it short for a few years, until the tone of the country began to change. Authority was running rampant. Out of control, even. People close to me – people that I loved dearly – began to question and criticize my speaking out about events and trends that did not sit well with me. I saw the same thing happen in the media – on a far larger scale – to people who had the same opinions and concerns as I did. This time it was a statement – a rejection of conformity complete and absolute and without apology. If all the folks with W04 decals on their SUVs got a kick of revulsion when they saw me my job was done.

I told myself for most of ‘08 that I would cut it again if my pick got in office. It happened (a most joyous event that I’m still reveling in no matter who might get bent about it) but I’m still holding on to my mane. I even went out and ordered a short run of business cards with a headshot. Yup. Flying my freak flag upfront – because if you have a problem with my hair you REALLY aren’t concerned about talent or ability. There’s probably a little vanity in this motivation…but I also have to admit that I’m just not quite ready to close the door on rebellion or questioning authority or the ability to make uptight folks uncomfortable in my presence.

If you’re offended by any of this you can take relief that I didn’t just come out to you.

It’s Wednesday, December 31, 2008 and I’ve officially started a weblog.

I’ve long had the intention…but the inspiration and motivation levels had not yet reached critical mass until I started spending time with Twitter. There are a lot of people there who have a lot to say; the best have learned to say it well within the constraints of a 140 character post. The most interesting also maintain some sort of web log, and my favorites among these have inspired me to flex my own writing muscles. I owe a big shout out to @LilPecan, @barelydiz and my oldest and dearest friend @backwardsflip.

I’m a ‘cuspie‘ – born in 1961 so I’m too young to be a real boomer and too old to be a real gen-xer. This suits me fine as I hike my way into middle age with the foundation of a happy childhood, a wonderful family and a loving, intelligent spouse.

This last year has been my most challenging yet. In the long run it also may become my most significant.

I lost my dad in March. He made it to 80. He battled heart disease for years, and damage from several cardiac events had left him very tired. Even with this struggle he worked until his last day – always keeping busy with the activities that helped him thrive. It’s been a tough road for all of us and I’m learning how a loss this big doesn’t go away. You somehow find a way to rebuild around it, but the empty space will always be there; a repository for the memories and respect and longing.

And while missing Dad has dominated the remainder of ‘08, we have had so many good things come our way. Mom doesn’t drive, so I now put aside Tuesdays and Thursdays for our errands. It’s been good therapy for me to have the time with her and I smile to myself when I remember all the times I assured Dad that I would be there for her.

My wife landed a great gig as an ophthalmic technician. I’ve had time to develop my web startup idea. My little sister embarked on yet another mission to the Middle East and returned safely. My older sister’s daughter married a talented and loyal young man. Mom has carried on with an amazingly positive outlook and a resigned relief that only a caretaker can know.

And what to expect of 2009? I have plenty of good intentions…but knowing the twists and changes ‘08 put us through I’m going to leave them as ‘intentions’ and not be too disappointed if life happens and puts them off for another year.

Happy New Year to all. May it be a year of progress, dialogue and new foundations for all of us.