A Documented Mullet

I've been cleaning out my closets of late, getting rid of stuff that once seemed important enough to pack up and save... rubber "practice" nunchaku, ankle braces, protective ear guards for Jiu Jitsu, photos that were funny fifteen years ago and kinda sad now.

I've stumbled on a number of video tapes. Some from college years. One was from Alumni weekend the year after I graduated. It was actually painful to watch at times, man, I just had no idea what a jerk I was.

The most painful of discoveries, presnted in a family reunion tape from 1996. There is no denying it, I had a mullet. There is irrefutable video documentation that effect.

I swear to you, we were young and dumb then, we didn;t know what we were doing, and I never never, EVER asked for a mullet, it just sort of, I dunno...happened.

I'll admit, I do recall saying "leave it long in the back," but this was in the days before we know of the destructive power of the mullet, the ability of the mullet to lead you to country-western bars and Klan rallies.

The most disturbing thing is that the video was shot with my girlfriend present at the family gathering, well within view of the mullet for the entire afternoon. I watched the video with abject horror.

"Can she not see the mullet? Why doesn't she say something? Good Lord, she's rubbing my back and her hand is just inches from the thing, how can she not notice it???"

I feel the same way about the mullet that I feel about my alcoholism. I never asked for either, they just happened to me. The important thing is what I do with my life... and hair, from now on. I can't change the past. Oh, I've destroyed the tape, family memorabilia or not, but I can never erase the memory of my mullet, flapping gently in the warm July breeeze, as obvious as a swasticka on my bicep, and probably more offensive.