As they say about haircuts Saturday 28 Mar 20




The only difference between a bad haircut and a good one is about 2 weeks.  Covid-19 has prompted a 3-meter separation rule here in French Polynesia, when one is allowed out in public at all.  There’s an upside to that.  I’m a young 61 now, and from a distance the haircut that Isabel recently gave me looks even better.  My once blond hair doesn’t look quite as gray.

 

There used to be an automobile painting chain in the US called Earl Scheib.  Their tag line was something like “we’ll fix and paint any door for $99.95 or some such.  They would paint an entire car for some ridiculously low price, but as we used to say, an Earl Scheib paint job looks a lot better from at least 50 feet away.

 

I cut Isabel’s hair a few days ago.  I like to think of it as the Earl Scheib of haircuts.  The difference is that unlike Earl Scheib paint jobs which went from mediocre to worse pretty quickly, Isabel’s haircut is continuing to improve.

 

Isabel got coerced into cutting a couple of Polish guys hair a few days ago.  They found out she cut mine and pretty much begged her to shear their noggins.  Now they’re happy campers, and even if they look in a mirror they’ll still be pretty darn pleased.  Might be good not to look at the back of their heads, but hey, they got what they paid for!

 

Our pals Pat and Celine were on board for 5 weeks recently.  Celine cut Pat’s hair with scissors!  She did a great job.  Pat couldn’t stop talking about what a great deal Medicare is.  He’s already had a hip replaced, and as a former athlete and extreme sport kinda guy, I’m betting he’ll have to get a few more body parts fixed in the next few years.  Good for him – the hip didn’t cost him a nickle.  Just had to turn 65 and qualify for socialized medicine.  I’m still trying to figure out why so many Americans hate the idea of a single payer medical system.  Take the worry and stress out of being able to go to the doc or get a part fixed, and perhaps we’d have a happier, more productive, less disfunctional workforce.  A level playing field that forces those knotheads in Washington to enjoy the same care as the rest of the population might prompt some improvement, but just like folks who can vote for their own pay raises, there’s no way they’ll want to share the same healthcare system as everyone else.

 

I’ll be puchasing health insurance a few more years – no rush to be 65.  That said, buying the international health insurance policy I just paid for means a $10,000 deductible, and no coverage for anything they can point to that involves a pre-existing condition.  I crashed an aircraft when I was 35, and the policy specifically states that anything relating to that is not covered.  Hopefully if I get cancer or some other dreadful ailment they won’t be able to claim it’s because I busted myself up into tiny pieces 26 years ago, but wonders never cease.  If you’re fixin’ to go cruising, you better be thinking real hard about how you’re going to handle health insurance.  It’s not about paying for a doctor visit or even a minor surgery – it’s about protecting your life’s savings from sudden depletion if something life threatening happens.

 

Being 61 doesn’t suck at all, except some of Isabel’s college friends think of me as that old man cradle robber.  Well, to heck with their age-discrimination attitude and good for me, I say!  At least I don’t have to get up and go to work Monday through Friday.

 

Pat and Celine departed French Polynesia for the US earlier than planned.  I had urged them to just hang out a few months and enjoy being here.  About time to check in and find out just how weird folks are acting around Bend, Oregon.  Hope they’ve got toilet paper.

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