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August 2 2005

I know that some of you love hearing about life on the road. Some of you might even think life out here is fun, and most of the time it is. But, there are so many things that we miss from being out here. I'm not talking about the big things; there are a whole bunch of little things that I miss from home when I'm on the road.

And here is one:-} I've been on the road with different bands since the late 70's, and one of the biggest problems I've had for so many of those years was where to find a haircut. If any of you have seen some of the early pictures of me, you will notice that I had hair. There was a time when I had lots of hair. I've gone through so many hair styles in my life, it's hard to describe them all, but I'll try. #1. The Jackson 5 blow fro. #2. The Gerri Curl (this is a process that straightens the hair, but to keep it that way you have to wear this awful gel that destroys anything it come in contact with. #3. The High Top Fade, this is a hair cut where the top is 6 to 7 inches tall and the sides are cut close. These are three of the more adventurous and funny styles. As you can imagine, it's very hard keeping these styles or any style for that matter neatly groomed while traveling.

During my first year with Bruce, we were on the road for a couple of months with Bonnie Raitt and then a couple of months on our own. I usually needed a hair cut once a week, because at this point I was wearing my hair cut close. Nothing fancy, just close. So at one point, it was time to get a hair cut. We were in Seattle with a day off, and I was looking a little like a bison around the head. I couldn't take it anymore, I needed a hair cut and I need it right then! So I called down to the front desk of hotel in downtown Seattle.

"Do you know of a barbershop in this area?" I ask.

"Yes," was the reply. There is one a couple of blocks away. I am excited:-} I'll look good for the show tomorrow. I walk the two blocks, and look at the sign. "Damn! I don't know if there is anyone in there that can cut my hair, " I think to myself but what the hell! I'll give it a try.

I walk in and ask, "Do you have someone here that can cut black hair?"

The nice lady says, "Why, yes we do!" I'm smiling from ear to ear:-} She calls to someone in the back, "You have a customer!"

Now, at this point, I'm expecting a person a little more "familiar," if you know what I mean. I will give anyone a chance but, when I had hair, I only went to the "hood" to get haircuts. So, when this little Asian woman came into the room, I had a moment of indecision. Should I leave or stay? One look in the mirror made up my mind for me. I need a haircut. But, I did ask if she knew how to cut black hair.

"Yes," was her reply.

"Well, let's do this," I say.

And now it begins. This lady proceeds to grab me in a head lock, as if we are in a wrestling match. And then I hear the whirr of shears.

"Uh-oh!" I think to myself. "What the hell?" She starts pruning me a if I were a sheep. Now, it occurs to me that this was a bad idea. After what seems like an hour (but it was actually more like 5 minutes), I am released from the death grip.

"How does it look?" she asks. :-{ I am not happy, there are so many holes in my head that I am looking like a spotted cow. I look at her and ask if she can even my hair where the divots are?

"Yes," she says! Another death grip and 5 minutes later, I am officially "jacked up." For those that don't know what the term "jacked up" means, here is an explanation. Jacked up: a hood term for RUINED. She cannot fix it.

"Oh no!" I think to myself. "I cannot go out in public like this." Panic sets in. "What the hell am I going to do?" "I know!" We have a background singer in the band, Debbie Henry. I will see if she can help me. After all she's Black.

After running back to the hotel, ducking and dodging anyone with eyes. I get to my room make the call to Debbie. She hurries down. I ask her to take a look and let me know if it's as bad as I think it is.

"Yes," she says while falling down with laughter. I beg herDebbie to help me if she can. I have a pair of mustache scissors she can use. So now, I'm sitting on the bed and Debbie is trying to fix my hair with a small pair of scissors. After 20 minutes, she is tired, her knuckles are bleeding and my head is still a mess. I thank her and she leaves. I am staring into the bathroom mirror about to cry. What will I do? I am in full panic mode now. I spot the razor...I gaze again into the mirror...Oh well!

An hour later and I am as bald as a baby's bottom. Now, the first time you shave your head, it's a different color than the rest of your body. So, now I need a tan. Damn, now the top of my head is a different shade of Black than the rest of me. And I don't have a lot of time to get a tan. Will this nightmare ever end?

"I know...I'll wear a hat during the show and tan my head every moment away from the stage." It took a week to match the colors:-}

As you can see, these are some of little things that you miss being on the road. But I've solved that problem now by using some great stuff called Headslick. It helps make life on the road a little mo' better.

I hope you all appreciate your barbers and stylists:-} Don't end up like me, two toned and bald:-}

See ya soon!!

Peace, JV