I haven’t had a haircut in over a year, as made obvious every time I catch a glimpse of myself hair down in the mirror. It’s long and straggly, and the tips are drier than toast. Up, it just looks like a nest of feathers and twigs. I’m considering another lob, something that forces me to wear it down for a few months, and maybe a highlight or two. The dream haircut is Mia Farrow’s in the Sinatra years, but I’m not brave enough for anything that drastic. But I must do something, before a bird comes to hibernate.