You Can’t Stop My Hair

I should probably say some things about the Automattic Grand Meetup at some point here, but I feel compelled to address the question of my hair. Some of my colleagues ran into it for the first time over the past couple of weeks.

Simon Wheatley looked at me and said, “I am not sure I really grasped the concept of Markel before this week. But now, seeing you with that hair, I fully understand Ryan Markel.”

Various other people looked at me with a mix of reactions from shock and surprise to knowing acceptance.

Two things:

  1. I’m not cutting it any time soon, which could be interesting
  2. It is very close to being as long as it’s ever been, which is already kind of interesting
  3. (I lied about the two count) I actually don’t know if it will ever fall down.

You may be wondering about that last part, so allow me to explain. Around 30 seconds after I towel dry it, my hair looks like this:


think I made it to breakfast once or twice at the meetup looking kind of like that. Around an hour or two after my hair is dried, it starts looking like this:


(Man, there is a lot more grey in there than there used to be. Also, holy crap, do I look tired. I guess that’s what the meetup does to you.)

I cannot stop it from doing this. I can only assume that a case’s worth of product might put a dent in it. But it just does that all on its own. I have no idea where it comes from. My mom’s hair doesn’t do this naturally. My dad’s doesn’t, either. None of my kids have this in evidence.

It’s just what it does.

And God forbid you let my hair go for the entire day, because, well:




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