Off to See the Wizard Musing

So ... wow, the wind came last night. I looked for Dorothy and Toto to go flying by my window, but then I remembered -- I'm not in Kansas ... (alright -- bad joke).

It seriously was really windy, though, and I had to keep the radio on in case they decided to give us tornado warning, since I'd never hear the excuses they have for sirens around here, even if I was fully awake.

I was kind of excited, really. I had just finished watching "Open Range" the night before and was wistful for the simplistic romance of that time, and then along comes this wind. I got out the candles, pre-boiled some water for tea, sat in my rocking chiar and waited ... only to be thoroughly disappointed. The power never went out. I never had to light the candles (I lit them anyway ...). I did drink a lot of good tea, though, and I got to enjoy my rocking chair, which is always nice ... but I wanted the power to go out. Call me odd.

Guilty Pleasure?

I have an odd confession. I love the movie "Open Range." I'm not a Western movie fan by any stretch, so I don't know why this one has captured my fancy -- the circumstances surrounding the first time I ever saw it are kind of funny and definitely require a story of their own -- but I think that maybe it's that black-and white definition between the good guys and the bad guys and the occasional necessity to duke it out/shoot it out on Main Street. Maybe that's a simplistic way to look at the movie, or at life, but I think that sometimes, as complicated as things can seem, you just need something simple like that every now and then.

What's in your toothpaste?

So, I was watching this commercial for toothpaste (I think it was Colgate), with Brooke Shields advocating for them, and they start talking about their great new ingredient, silica. Do you know what silica is? It's sand. They're putting sand in your toothpaste and expecting you to a) pay extra for it and b) scrub your teeth with it.

On a remotely related note, China's state news agency is reporting that the head of China's food and drug safety administration was executed this week. This on the heels of recalls of toothpaste made in China because of an unsafe ingredient they've been using. Michael Brown thought he had it rough for being "forced" out of his job at FEMA? The doorknob should be glad he didn't botch a Katrina-sized problem in China.

I watched a program this weekend that reported that China executes an average of 8,000 people per year; most of them, I can only guess, for minor infractions against a near-totalitarian Communist government. The focus of this same television program was China's attempt at a people's court system, which was fascinating ... watching the attempt at a "fair" judicial system within the confines of a Communist framework. It is a far cry from Western law, but it's a start; maybe one more fissure in a system that will hopefully crumble in our lifetime.

And that's the end of today's political dialogue.

Ellen the Hair Lady

I know that Chris has ranted about Fantastic Sam's, but with a few exceptions, I've rarely had a bad experience there. In Chris' defense, most of my bad FS experiences were in Gillette, so there you go.

My girl at FS here in Laramie was Tiffany, a sweet but slightly odd girl. Hers was the only really decorated station in the whole shop. Some girls would have photos of their kids, maybe their husbands/boyfriends, a card from a friend, etc. Not Tiffany.

Tiffany had flimsy, filmy, gauzy stuff draped over the mirror, china dolls all over the place (it was kind of creepy, really), framed art around her station ... I don't know what to compare it to, but it was the only hairdresser's station of its kind that I've ever seen.

So when I went in on Saturday for my waaaaaaay-overdue trim/cut, I was sad to see that all the gauze, all the china dolls, all the framed art -- and Tiffany herself -- were gone. So I got Ellen instead.

Ellen smells like the cigarettes that she smokes. Ellen doesn't smile. Ellen doesn't chat. Ellen isn't gentle. And Ellen doesn't dawdle. She does call everyone "hon," in that raspy, I've-been-smoking-since-I-knew-how-to-breathe kind of voice, and she did do a good job -- that has to be said. But it was the fastest, least conversational haircut I've ever had.

And, on a vain note, it was the least complimentary haircut I've ever had. I like getting my hair done, because it's usually at a point where I'm sick of it, but the girl who's doing it usually goes on and on about how thick and curly and long and well-taken care of it is ... and it really boosts my self-esteem about my hair.

Not Ellen. She agreed with every depricating thing I had to say about my hair ... and then she left it at that. Nothing about the curl. Nothing about the thickness. No comments about how well I must condition it (and, dangit, I do condition it a lot ...). I was sad when I left Ellen. Sad and soggy-headed. But, like I said, it looks a lot better. And feels a lot better. I still tipped her, but I wanted to add a note on my receipt: "You could talk a bit, you know." But I didn't. I think I felt intimidated. So I just left to go get my oil changed instead (that's another self-depricating story; I hate getting my oil changed).