happy chatter

I discovered today that my hairdresser thinks Frank is slightly crazy, and right now she probably thinks I am too. After our over-the-hair-cut conversation I'm beginning to wonder myself.

We were talking about the pulp mill, as you do. Every conversation around here somehow ends up at the pulp mill at some point or other. (Unless we already know the other person vehemently disagrees with us, and in the interests of health and safety we mutually tactfully but obviously avoid the topic all together)

Anyway, Charmaine was chopping away at my hair this afternoon when I mentioned my husband had also been in for a cut this week and did she know who he was?

"Oh yes," she said "Frank. He was in here the other day! I know who he is. He's very passionate about certain topics like the pulp mill isn't he?"

I laughed and agreed that yes, he is very passionate in his opposition to the mill, we both are.

Charmaine went on to report the way she had cut short Frank's passion on Tuesday because the girl who was cutting his hair is strongly in favour of the mill. Her husband is a log truck driver. That seems to be the way it goes here. If you work in forestry at all, you support the mill and cannot conceive it might be bad for the environment - feeding your family takes priority over ensuring your family have a world to live in. Fair enough. I don't work in forestry, I don't drive a log truck (fortuitously, after my most recent driving endeavours!). Before you accuse me of ignoring this side of the debate, I have spent some time trying to understand it. From what I can gather, Tasmania has a long history of considering the forests theirs for the taking. We have forgotten that those forests nurtured convict escapees and protected them from recapture... and all the other nice things forests do for us. This slash and mill mentality doesn't seem to have been such a problem until Gunns came along and introduced tree felling on a grand scale. Somewhere along the way stands of trees became mass commodities; dollar signs that overshadowed any nurturing or healing value the trees might offer.

But I digress... suffice to say, Frank's most winning arguments against the pulp mill were smothered in the hair dressing salon in the interest of peace for all hairdressers.

As Charmaine relayed the conversation and defended herself against the accusation of 'fence sitter' (a dirty word in this debate) I offered a half hearted smile of encouragement, all the while thinking, "Frank and I also see both sides of the debate, but we are concerned for the long term health of our state. We cannot see how chopping all those trees down will leave us better off in the long run." I managed to hold my tongue - a good thing since the other hairdresser was only standing a few metres away. I wish I'd continued to hold my tongue when the topic of conversation turned to hair straighteners!

I have this little thing about not purchasing a hair straightener. I love the resulting pencil straight hair, but to me it epitomises our culture's obsession with appearance. While there are people in the world who cannot afford to eat or live in a house, I cannot buy a hair straightener to line my lifestyle with greater unnecessary comfort. I realise the logic here is subtle, perhaps even absent, but somewhere in my mind there is a link between world poverty and hair straighteners. It's as simple as that. And I am perfectly within my rights to maintain that link. But the hairdressing salon may not be the best place to expound my belief. really. not at all.

To her credit Charmaine took it well. She even seemed to understand where I was coming from. And she happily straightened my hair as a special once-a-haircut treat. But I wonder what she was really thinking of Frank and I as I walked out of the salon? Slightly crazy? Cooky? Weird? Odd?

I love this salon - they're practically the cheapest in town (more of my 'won't pay $50 for a hair cut when some people have no food' reasoning at work there... thankfully they do a mean cut too!). But I'm a bit embarrassed to go back. Are there any other cheap hairdressers around here?

Labels: beliefs, hairdresser, nablopomo 07, pulp mill