I've been meaning to add this for awhile but various distractions always seemed to conspire against me... I guess what I'm trying to say is it's not my fault. Anyhoo, the story behind this is as follows: one weekend not long ago, the family and I were in Keene, New Hampshire and I was desperately in need of a haircut. For too long I rode the nutty-professor-look way past amusement into a realm of sad dishevelment... looking not unlike one of those guys who live down by the river. Clearly I needed some styling. Unfortunately we happened across an old barbershop that doesn't style: it just cuts. Frank the Barber became irate when I asked him to shorten the sides and back but leave some length on top. With his oxygen tubes inserted into his nostrils, he grunted and gruffled that he doesn't style, he just cuts hair. He kept repeating his credo until we left. Ah, small-town charm.

The quality isn't so great because I had to take a photo on my iPhone. sorry.