So the last time i had my hair-cut was my last day in Dharamsala on 22nd December 2010. And what an experience that was!
When Ma saw me one month later she had kittens.
It might not grow very evenly but it is shoulder length and i do look wild and woolly. Gloves sent her some pics from our sojourn in Ethiopia and it takes Ma 15 minutes to realise who i am. More kittens and probably a few puppies too. She begs and pleads with me to get it cut before i visit my Israeli family. Indeed she has bombarded my mobile phone with text messages from England and on her current trip in Portugal.
I promise her that i “will look respectable” on my arrival into Israel, but i do fail to get my flowing locks cut. Uncle “Moisha” (Pa’s bro) offers me immediate accommodation and he also receives Ma’s diatribe via text. Too funny.
He tells me this when picking me up from Hertzliya bus terminal and invites me to his barber the following day and I acquiesce.
We arrive there by 11am and by 11.30 my locks are shorn, my head is lighter and i look 10 years younger. Fortunately it is not as ferocious as my last cut, and Moisha insists on paying. Good on him.