Checklists and appointments

Donald Trump did something this weekend, I'm sure, but I have no idea what it was. I don't know what he said, or what he did, or what he tweeted, and I feel that I'm a better person for this lack of knowledge.

I decided not long ago that I'd avoid all news--especially political news--on the weekends. This weekend, I officiated at a swim meet, and went to a neighborhood kid's graduation party, and swam in a freezing cold pool, and cooked and ate and read and wrote, and didn't give a thought to the swamp on Pennsylvania Avenue just a few miles from my house.

*****
Now it's Monday, and it's June 10, I'm all caught up on news, and it's too cold to swim. But it's all right. My son graduates from high school on Thursday, and my younger son graduates from middle school on Friday, and people graduating means that summer has to return at some point.

*****
Oh, and I got a haircut, and it's a good haircut. It's maybe the best haircut I've ever had. Most people didn't even notice it, because it's not very different from my usual hairstyle, only it's cut really well.

I approached this haircut with considerable trepidation. My history vis-a-vis haircuts isn't good. But I was hating my hair and desperate to fix it so it would fall properly without fifteen minutes of struggle with a hairdryer and brush. Ain't nobody got time for that nonsense.

Half an hour after I walked into the new salon, I had hair that was half an inch shorter, but a hundred times better. The stylist, an older Iranian lady, gently suggested that I might consider some kind of color to camouflage the encroaching gray. She looked me up and down. "You're a very beautiful lady. Hair, skin, clothes, style, everything perfect," she said, with an up and down sweeping gesture. "Just a little bit of color, that's all."

I don't get "very beautiful" and "everything perfect" very often. This is how good this haircut is: I actually believed her.

*****
Well what the hell was that? Is this Glamour magazine? I mean, really.

It's Tuesday now, and it's still too cold to swim, and my hair is still pretty good, but don't worry--I won't be writing a sonnet about it or anything.

*****
The last few months have been just one long checklist, and I'm almost at the end.

Confirmation? Check.
Last middle school and high school band concerts? Check.
Last high school swim meet? Last middle school softball game? Check and check.
Awards nights? Potluck dinners? Prom? Graduation rehearsal? Check times four.

Graduation on Thursday, and middle school graduation on Friday. And then that's all there is. There isn't any more. It's a little sad. But at least my hair is OK.