Because I'm Me, I Thought It'd Be Cool to Document Covid-Bed Head Since March. Um, I Only Nailed 84 Days, But I Tried

To be Bryan Ripley Crandall, one must get obsessed with stupid things like growing one's hair out because one isn't supposed to be out and about and documenting said growth on a daily basis. The trouble is, I couldn't resist hair cuts (had three) and I failed to document all the days of growth during this pandemic. I just got tired of the photos clogging up my I-photo library and wanted to get rid of them. Hence, this post.

Truth is, the 84 pictures were from this year, mostly from morning wake-up bed-head rituals, and they are not in order. When I thought about the labor it would take to put them in chronological order in IMovie I gave up on my own goal. I did, however, meet my vision of semi-documenting the mop atop my head. I wish it grew twice as long, twice as fast, but I'll take the feathers the way they fell. My barber, Jerry, talked me out of cutting the top when he said, "Dude. At your age. Celebrate that hair is still growing on your head."

So, I am. 

So, I do.

I get weirded out about using copy-written material as a musical background so went with Apple's free animal and beach sounds. In some ways, I've been a bird of sorts laughing at the ways my hair falls in the morning.  A couple of times I did groom the entanglement for conference calls and interview recordings, but mostly this is what I looked like when I woke up each day. 

I get myself in the stupidest habits and don't allow myself much wiggle room out of them. This is one that I knew was going to obsess me, and become a nuisance. Why photograph your hair everyday, Crandall? Um, because I can. I could. It gave me mild humor through the crazy pandemic and something I want to remember about 2020. 

And with that, I'm still letting it grow...for now.

But, I'm allowing myself the freedom from "documenting" every day. Time to move on.