HAIR!

It was foggy and cold last night, and there was overmuch eccentric behaviour. As well as a woman at the karaoke place in party clothing, whom I've seen before and avoid conversing with because madness takes a toll. Observing her from the other end of the bar made me think of muppets. The shorter ones; Scooter, Gonzo, and Beaker.

Naturally we left before her number came up.

When I got home I was still wired to the eyebrows from all the tea I had drunk. Strong tea before leaving the house. A cup of tea at the beatnik bar. And a glass of hot tea at the song palace. Plus a semi-caffeinated beverage in between.

In the bus, the bookseller and I discussed navel gazing. He postulated that gazing at one's own navel would either give one cramps, or, depending on your pose. constipation. At least I think that's what he said. Because the appendectomy entered at the navel, my navel is no longer nearly as cute as it once was. Which makes me sad. I do not like it anymore.

So in a way he's right. One should not gaze at one's own navel.
Perhaps I could consider yours instead?
I promise I won't look.

Like tattoos, pierced navels are repellent to me. And I note that if the weather is warm, there are a large number of women walking around with their stomachs showing. As far as I'm concerned, it's inappropriate and in bad taste. It makes them look like a dancing girl.
No daughter of mine is ever leaving the house undressed like that!

And, seeing as I have no children, that's easy to say.

I am happy that I missed the hippie era.
The seventies were bad enough.



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