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Saturday, October 11th, 2003

    Time Event
    The 11th Hour
    So I just got out of the shower, I figured I needed to spend one last time with my hair so-to-speak before I chop it off. Special thanks to Emily and Jessica for the nudges over the past year, not to mention Kat's subtle and not-so-subtle hints over the years. Once someone plants that seed in my head, I can't shake it. So finally I decided 'what the hell?' I'll cut my hair short. It's been long a quarter of my life. It's always been symbolic to me. When I was younger I was always the insecure, small, quiet little boy afraid to live. Two major influences came to me when I was 13 years old. Heavy Metal and professional wrestling. I got into metal, and became a huge fan of Bret Hart. He was my first hero thinking back; growing up I never idolized anyone, or never wanted to be -insert dream occupation here-. I started working out, and growing my hair long. I worked out because in my juvenile mind it was to impress this girl I adored that I was too shy to approach (how typical right?). Not only did this lead to a healthier, more attractive appearance, it gave me the confidence I always lacked, and the courage to deal with my speech problem. Time went on, I kept going, now I'm on the verge of making a career out of a symbol childhood hobby. Oddly enough, the older I got, the more people told me I look like Bret Hart. I mean complete strangers stop me on a near daily basis these days to let me in on that. I never really saw it that much myself, beyond the physique and the long wavy hair. Well tonight as I sat in the shower (yes, I sat) I gazed in the mirror. The mirror never has lied, I've always heard. Thinking about Monday, the day of my shearing, I just looked at my face in the mirror. I smoothed my hair back, hanging behind my head and rolling forward over my shoulders, I realized. Good God, I do look like Bret Hart. That was the first time I saw it. It's like one of those moments when you suddenly realize something that's been right under your nose (literally) all along. As trivial as it may seem to anyone reading this, it meant something to me. Remembering the few times I remember watching wrestling when I was little and seeing the Hart Foundation in action. The a few years later becoming a fan yes, but a steadfast believer in what my hero stood for. And now I've seen that I'm the physical second-coming of my childhood role model. My girlfriend said she'll cry when I finally do cut my hair, but worry not, it's not the last you've seen of the Hitman. Monday it is, wish me luck.

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