A tangled web

Dreadfully dapper.

Running for office has forced me to step up my look.  My original premise, that writers are largely immune to judgments based on their appearance, is completely the opposite of politics, where votes can be won or lost based on looks alone.

When I attended the Ulster County Republican Convention, one gentleman, upon seeing me wearing my tam, asked if I were perhaps Jamaican.  Now that I've worn the thing, I have to agree that they look a bit ridiculous . . . very poofy and visually distracting.

So I'm stepping up my game.  I've taken off my Groucho glasses, so to speak, by shaving the mustache and replacing the glasses with contacts.  I stepped into Blue Byrd's Haberdashery to get advice on a better hat and, together with a thoughtful customer who told me that the cocoanut weave fedora brings out my eyes, we found one that I think works quite well.

This political game isn't what I had in mind when I began to lock my hair, but I don't doubt that it will draw out the positive and negative perceptions about the style.  I've had no less than three people suggest that I should get rid of them if I'm serious about running for office, but I have a prior commitment to my hair:  five years unless I run into some kind of icky hygiene issue.  I'm willing to serve, but I'm first and foremost a student of life, and I'm going to learn about campaigning in the context of learning about dreadlocks, and I'm just going to have to find ways to convince people to focus on my ideas, rather than my hair.

There's absolutely nothing to be lost by maintaining a professional and classy appearance, though.