Where's My Eyebrow?

 


I got an email from a friend where I used to live. His name is Tim. He used to work in the woods as a logger, climbing hillsides and cutting down huge old growth spruce and hemlock trees. Now he's working at the local sawmill, running the saw, turning those logs into lumber. He's tough as nails, a real he-man. We developed a friendship some years back when he started coming to church. He knows enough about some of my misadventures in life that he felt comfortable relaying to me a story of his own misfortune.

While getting ready for church a week ago, he took a look in the mirror and realized that he was starting to look pretty shaggy. Hoonah doesn't have a barber shop. There are a few people in town who cut hair, but by and large, most folks either opt to cut their own, or get a haircut when they take a trip to Juneau. Tim decided to trim up his hair and shave his beard. Then he noticed that his eyebrows were really getting long. He said about an inch and a half in length. He already had the hair clippers in his hand, so he decided to use them to trim his eyebrows. That was a mistake. He inadvertently shaved off one of his eyebrows.

While he didn't elaborate on how he dealt with the situation, and much to my dismay, didn't include a picture, I, nonetheless, thought I would offer a few suggestions on how to deal with his problem.

I wrote back-"Hello Tim, it's so good to hear from you, and it's a real bonus to read the fascinating story about the eyebrow caper. So, what are you going to do? Do you have an eye patch that you can wear to cover the bald spot until it grows back? It's too bad it's not Halloween, then you could say it's part of your pirate costume. Maybe Michelle has some eyebrow stencil that you can fill in the back round, then get some glue, or maybe wax, and cut off some ear hairs and paste them in. Perhaps some huge sunglasses would work, though I don't think they make men's sunglasses that large." I try to be helpful when I can.

I went on to relate a story from when I was working at the school. One of the young high school girls, named Amanda, showed up one day looking like an alien. She was tall and thin and had a very high forehead that stood out when she pulled her hair back. For reasons unknown, she longed for any attention she could get. She would often pull some outlandish stunt to get noticed and was a frequent visitor to the principal's office. Her dad happened to be the local police chief, so I don't know if she was trying to embarrass him or what. On that particular day when we passed in the school hallway, something looked out of place. It wasn't until the school secretary mentioned it that I realized she had shaved off both of her eyebrows. It looked freaky. I'm not sure how it would compare to having just one eyebrow shaved though. While the story wasn't at all helpful, I wanted him to know that we've all done stupid things.

I recall working in the back room of the L. Kane store years ago unloading freight with a gal named Susan. I was bent over putting a box away, and when I stood up, she reached over and grabbed a hair on one of my eyebrows and yanked for all she was worth. It was of course, attached. She didn't think it was, it was so blasted long. Periodically I have to trim my eyebrows because they poke me in the eye when I'm driving. However, I've never considered using a hair trimmer to deal with them.

Speaking of eyebrows, I recall once when I was about eight years old. School was out for the summer, and my brother and I were hanging out in our room. I had watched a cowboy and Indian show the night before, and wanted my older brother, Mark, to paint my face like an Indian's. I wanted war paint so I could go wander around the neighborhood shouting and acting like a fool. My brother found the Prang water color paints from school and proceeded to paint my face. I could feel him making circles on each cheek with the red. I couldn't contain the smile on my face as I thought how vicious I'd look. Then he got some black paint and painted my eyebrows. I asked him about that and he assured me that the Indians used to paint their eyebrows. I should have known something was up when he started snickering. When he put paint on my lips I got suspicious and went into the bathroom to check out my war paint. I looked like a lady of the night. Needless to say I didn't ask for any help from him in the future for much of anything.

I still haven't heard from Tim about how he dealt with the one eyebrow issue. Of course if he was a Cyclops, it wouldn't be an issue at all, but since he's not, I'd love to know. I may have to do a follow up email.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Sick Pack

The End of an Era

Clear but Cold