The coronavirus prohibitions haven’t had any effect at all on my haircut routine. It’s because I haven’t set foot in a barber shop and have taken care of my own hair for more than a half-century.

How did this haircut habit come about?

Well, during my early years I was a regular haircut-getter every few weeks. Later, in my working life, that was increased to every two weeks. Then, during my years in the Washington political arena, with the required blue suit, white shirt and tie, I got a trim once a week.

When I returned in the 1960s to my home – then in New Hampshire – it was smack in the middle of the Age of Aquarius and the New-Age musical “Hair.” Tired of the buttoned-down routine, I adopted a kind of hippie lifestyle, which included letting one’s hair grow longer. No more barber shop.

So that things didn’t get completely out of hand, I purchased a pair of barber’s scissors and thinning shears. With the help of a couple of mirrors, I found I could keep my mop and goatee beard reasonably under control.

Then, a few years ago, I decided to go all out. No more trimming. Now, as my 90th birthday rolls around, my goatee has flowered into a full beard, with the white hair on my head flowing well below the neckline.

What’s next in my hirsute history? Who knows? Maybe by next year I’ll decide it will be time for a visit to my local barber shop – if they let me in the door..

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