It is hard to say goodbye to old friends

I am not big on goodbyes, they make me uncomfortable. I just don’t like doing it and I have a proclivity for slipping away without saying anything, or giving a barely perceptible nod. Sometimes I might say “see you later” or “how about those Dodgers/Lakers/Raider” or some such thing.

And now I find that I am stuck saying goodbye to an old friend, and I am not happy about it. I have never known life without him and he is leaving me, with little to no regard for my feelings. I have tried to convince him to stay. I have reasoned with him. I have screamed at him. I have begged and pleaded, but it is to no avail.

He just won’t listen. The ornery cuss can’t show any kindness and doesn’t have the decency to just leave. Why the slow agonizing death. Why drag this out, you crazy bastard. In the name that all is good and decent, why must you torture me.

My friend, for 35 years you have graced my head, all of it, not just sections of it. For 35 years you kept my keppie warm and served as my “Jewfro.” And now, civil war has been declared across the front of my head. Sections of my hair are seceding and receding.

I could resort to stronger measures, but I won’t. I don’t want surgery, won’t take drugs and refuse to use colored silly string to cover the departure of the troops. And unlike Bush and company I cannot call in new troops nor extend the stay of those in the field.

The only thing to do is to try and be dignified about this. I may lose this fight, but I will not lose the war. Hair today, gone tomorrow may be the future, but I will have justice.

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