A Transformational Experience

I was just having fun in my new role as a retiree back in 2005 and 2006. That probably explains the ease with which my relatives and friends adjusted to the new me. I had a heck of a sense of humor then. My journalist friend from way, way back - Sylvia - even commented that I had finally found my voice.

Cathe and Rick, who were my wife's officemates at the time, said one of the sites they made sure they checked out every day was my Nykos blog. I found humor in just about everything I observed in those days. It was pastoral. It was a delirious time in my life.

My reward was a lot of positive comments from my friends and relatives about the new me that projected from my blog.

I could laugh at myself. My long hair. My trips to the styling salon to get my hair curled - because I had always wanted long curly hair. At first, it was embarassing. Everybody else in the salon getting a perm was an old, white woman. Yet there I was, an old Asiatic man getting his long hair permed. Some of the women there must have wondered about my sexual orientation. But I didn't care. I knew that my manhood was intact. I knew because I thought of the opposite sex a lot. Being retired, I had lots of time to do my thinking. Lots of opportunities in the past that I passed up - all because I always tried to do the right thing.

I liked the perms' result after a couple of weeks, but I had to endure the ridicule from my wife the first few days after the perms. She always managed to observe that when she looked at the back of my head, she thought she was looking at my mother's head. You see, the first few days after a perm, the hair looks kinky - which is what my mother preferred for her own.

After I moved my family to Las Vegas in 2007 I decided to get a regular haircut - minus the long hair, minus the curls - because I wanted to reinvent myself in my new surroundings. People in Vegas are tough, real tough. But I did get second looks from the teenage girls who worked at Hollywood Video. They probably wondered if I was in the entertainment industry since I had long hair to go with my facial wrinkles. You know, the Playboy crowd of Hugh Hefner and dudes like that.

I don't like my hair these days. Short hair makes me look old. Not that there is anything wrong with looking my age. People do get old, face it. But I have no serious health problems, so I feel I can still boogie with the crowd of teenagers. Being old is not part of my self-image.

Like many men in Las Vegas, I wear my hair short now. I can't explain why but I have this image fixed in my head of how I should look with my close-cropped hair. Sort of like Brad Pitt in his roundish crew cut. So I get disappointed every time I come home from the barber shop and see in the mirror - not Brad Pitt but the me that I cannot recognize let alone accept.

So I tell myself that my hair will grow back. I can try once again, when my hair is longer, to nail that Brad Pitt look. Meanwhile, I'll just wear a baseball cap or my cowboy hat. Having watched "No Country for Old Men," I know that cowboy hats are hot these days. And don't forget the prescription dark glasses. Those shades are cool, especially for cool dudes like Jack Nicholson.

(By the way, the origin of "Nykos" is Dinonykus, the most intelligent dinosaur of all. My son Paul knew all the dinosaur facts in those days and one of his favorite dinosaurs was the dinonykus. The T-Rex was his all-time favorite.)