Jean Fitz’s Weblog

Michael is headed to NASCAR this weekend and we wanted to make sure his passport to Indiana was in order. We were ready to begin after intense research over at the excellent website: http://mulletsgalore.com/

mullet: noun 1. a chiefly marine fish that is widely caught for food. 2. a hairstyle in which the hair is cut short at the front and sides and left long in back.

Jean: “So, Mikey, you want it short in the front and long in the back, right?” Michael: “Yeah, I wanna Mullet!”

I have never cut anyone’s hair before so a mullet request made me extra nervous. I’ve been told I have “hands of gold” with other craft projects, so why wouldn’t it extend to the realm of mullet art? Tools required: Scissors and maybe a comb. The toilet as barber’s chair will suffice. My technique was based largely on how I’ve observed hairdressers cut hair. I comb out a length of hair and grasp it between my index and middle finger. I snip across the top with the other hand. This creates an excellent textured effect if you grab small pieces at a time and work slowly around the top and sides of the head. Remember: you can’t rush perfection. We discussed how the mullet lifestyle is largely low maintenance so take special care in cutting off side hair that you would otherwise assume would be tucked behind the ear. Don’t assume gel or manual primping will keep stray strands at bay either. This is a mullet, ladies and gentleman. Notice the hair cutting form I use: raised elbows, hands kept within inches of head at all

times, basically intense mullet concentration.

Let’s get a good 360 degree look:

To add to the mullet-do, try on a handlebar mustache, like a little caterpillar reclining on his upper lip:

Do not confuse the handlebar with the closely related but culturally incompatible Fu Man Chu:

We noticed how Michael became more belligerent and turned from fine wine to corn whiskey as his hair got shorter and shorter up top.

The utterly convincing transformation has frightened me a little but Michael is surely ready for NASCAR now.

Today, I am unable to squat or touch my toes. For three days, this past weekend, I was privileged to run the Great Lakes Relay with 9 other unbelievable women, treking across the state of Michigan, 270 miles West actually, to Empire, on the shore of Lake Michigan.

Total hours of sleep? mmm, 12? maybe?

The important thing to remember is that the number of miles I ran were more than the hours I slept.

L-R: Jean, Aubrey, Liz, Joanne, Kathryn, Chelsea, Corinna, Rebecca, Janet (Not pictured is the great Jesse, who got sick and was only able to run on Day 1 so she gets a special picture featured above. Jesse was missed sorely the rest of the weekend but we’re glad you’re okay!!! )

Easiest part: eating snacks in a car all day.

Best part: getting to know the great people on the team, oh! and,er, running over 24 miles through the most beautiful parts of Michigan.

Hardest part: while snuggled in the back seat of the car on the way to the start of Day 3’s race, being told at 5am-with only 4 hours of sleep–less than 8 for the past two days– that I have to wake up and get in the other van to get to my leg of the race. That was harder than any sandy hill I ran the whole weekend. Wow, that hurt.

Most memorable: shoes disappearing into the mud as I ran…ankle deep in a swamp, raining hard, with no one in sight for miles. Ya-hoo.

Oh, and one more memorable moment: I was waiting at the end of my leg with another stranded runner. My van drove right past me and I ran down the road, I mean hobbled, waving my arms. No luck. I was left with a water bottle and a plastic baggie of trail mix at the corner of “lost” and “stranded.” The other runner’s van came and they said they’d send word that I was left behind. My team did return finally. I was never worried. My trail mix would have lasted for weeks!

For a complete slideshow, with detailed descriptions, go to my flickr set here.

So, our road trip dreams came true! We got in the local paper at the end of our musical road trip through the mountains. The Franklin News-Post tucked us neatly in between the obituaries and the animal control report. I mean, the polka-dot car was meant to brighten up a newspaper page like that, no?

And, if you can read the fine print above, we committed no crime to achieve this fame in the “Moonshine Capital of the World.” (Our whiskey’s legal as far as we can tell, ladies and gentleman.) Our 3 copies were mailed to us from the great staff at the Blue Ridge Institute…who originally spotted us with our instruments outside their museum. The top picture is Stacie, Natasha, and I with “Polkie” in front of the Crooked Road Sign. So, if there is ever argument about where “Polkie” first went into official print, it was in Franklin County, Virginia. The band-aids painted on the car even got some coverage! Get it? Coverage.

The second picture is Natasha in the center, fiddling with the band. You may never know how good they sounded…but, wow-wee, they sure were good-lookin’! Many thanks goes to the Blue Ridge Institute staff for submitting our story and reminding us that our trip was, indeed, worth a bit of ink.

Now, fingers still crossed about next year’s brochure!!!