hair today, gone tomorrow
Phoenix, 1981
My sister and I spent a week visiting our Uncle Mike (mom's brother), Aunt Joyce, and cousins Mikey and Jennfier. Mikey and used to be real pals before they up and moved to Arizona following the Sylmar earthquake in 1971. (Aunt Joyce is SERIOUSLY afraid of earthquakes.) I had just finished ninth grade; in California, that's the conclusion of junior high -- which were the most horrifying three years of my life, pretty much. It was a huge relief to just forget about life back home for a week. Thankfully, high school proved a bit more of a positive experience.
So, check out my hair! It was out of control back then; even when I combed it, clumps of it just moved back into whichever particular direction they chose. What a mop top. Ah well -- within five years my hair was well on its way to leaving my head anyway. Oh, and I see my mustache. I had a mustache at twelve.
That's Mikey on the right, a couple months before he turned fourteen; I was fifteen.
One of my favorite Flickr folks, Ray, has quite a few interesting old and new Polaroids in his photostream. Check his stuff out. And he's more fun than a barrel ride over Niagara Falls.
hair today, gone tomorrow
Phoenix, 1981
My sister and I spent a week visiting our Uncle Mike (mom's brother), Aunt Joyce, and cousins Mikey and Jennfier. Mikey and used to be real pals before they up and moved to Arizona following the Sylmar earthquake in 1971. (Aunt Joyce is SERIOUSLY afraid of earthquakes.) I had just finished ninth grade; in California, that's the conclusion of junior high -- which were the most horrifying three years of my life, pretty much. It was a huge relief to just forget about life back home for a week. Thankfully, high school proved a bit more of a positive experience.
So, check out my hair! It was out of control back then; even when I combed it, clumps of it just moved back into whichever particular direction they chose. What a mop top. Ah well -- within five years my hair was well on its way to leaving my head anyway. Oh, and I see my mustache. I had a mustache at twelve.
That's Mikey on the right, a couple months before he turned fourteen; I was fifteen.
One of my favorite Flickr folks, Ray, has quite a few interesting old and new Polaroids in his photostream. Check his stuff out. And he's more fun than a barrel ride over Niagara Falls.