Chuck has some weird fixation with his hair, and he refuses to cut it. We are not really sure how to address this issue. We drive him to a place to get his hair cut; he refuses to walk in. We tell him it will only cost a few dollars. He crosses his arms, and Chuck refuses to budge. None of us can pick him up, carry him in and drop him into the chair.
Dad's hair, once raven-colored, turned to a wonderful silver and white in the past few years. It is actually quite attractive, IF, it wasn't a comb-over gone wrong. Both my grandfather and uncle ended up doing a Mr. Clean or Telly Savalas thing in their 60's once the hair got thinner. In its own way, the clean-shaven head worked for them. My dad fought it. He began the comb-over instead of cleaning up the hair and wearing it short. At times, the hair is long enough to sit on his collar. When the wind catches the comb-over, he truly looks wild. We have tried everything to get him to clean up his hair style. He is ridiculously stubborn.
Chuck's answer to getting his hair cut, asking anyone who walks in the door to "trim a little off the back." He meets me with a 30-year old pair of scissors my mom used on us as kids. I have the haircutting skills of a 5-year old, so I wouldn't trust me to cut anyones hair, and I tell my dad. "Please, just a little?" He walks out onto his back deck, a small, worn towel wrapped around his shoulders, and Chuck sits very nicely with the scissors in hand waiting. It makes me crazy. So I walk out, take the scissors and begin cutting as much off the back as I can possibly get. "Just cut about 1/4 inch please." Whoops, took off about an inch. My bad. First dad says, 'thank you'. Then he looks to see the hair clippings on the deck and the battle begins. "How much did you take off?" "You asked me to trim your hair. I trimmed it." "No, that is too much. It will take a long time for it to grow back." "Dad, you could go to a licensed salon and have someone cut your hair." "They take too much off." "No Dad, they are trying to clean up the wild man look you have going on." The conversation goes nowhere. Chuck lets me know he won't ask me to cut it again; until he forgets that he made that promise. His eyebrows are another whole story. Yikes!
The positive side? In Chuck World, the daily memory erase that happens with Alzheimer's means everyday is a brand new day!
