For the past 2 weeks, I've sat in front of my flat screen and watched 2 soccer games each day.
This World Cup has really sucked me in.
Imagine how much more I would enjoy it if I knew all the rules.
I don't even care about the hoopla surrounding LaBron James and his upcoming free agency, heck, Brazil will be playing the Netherlands on the pitch tomorrow.
I woke up yesterday and turned on ESPN. I was sickened to learn there were no soccer games scheduled.
I muddled through the day wondering if Brazil was studying film. I hoped so. Those Netherlanders can be tricky.
Today I got up, walked the dogs, grabbed some coffee and took my familiar position on the couch. Again I learn no games until tomorrow. I sat there pouting like a kid who just lost his puppy.
My wife, who has been quite supportive of my recent obsessiveness with this strange yet captivating game, had a few words of encouragement for me today.
She said, "Mark, please put the vuvusela down and do something."
Those words, plus the fact I was dangerously close to attaining bed sores from my hours of sitting in one position, motivated me to get up.
I thought it a great excuse to get my hair cut.
As I've mentioned in a previous post, I usually get my hair cut at the local hair salon. That is not a place I can decide at the last minute to just stroll into. Making a hair appointment there is like making plans for a wedding. It has to be done months in advance.
So after years of boycotting the local barber shop with the barber pole outside, I strode in there unannounced this morning to get my locks trimmed.
I found some very distinct differences between the solon and the shop.
After planning months ahead for a visit to the salon, I spend close to an hour in the chair getting a makeover.
Walking in the barber shop today at 8 am had me back in my car at 8:15. That was nice.
A visit to my girl at the salon entails catching up on the family news, followed by 1/2 hour of man bashing done by the other clients who scheduled their appointments last May.
My guy at the barber shop commented on the weather, and then we listened as a customer recounted his story of seeing 3 Bald Eagles and a black bear in the town of "Bird in Hand."
Any conversation that includes the town of "Bird in Hand" just gets my attention.
My barber shop visit was quick and easy, like a pit stop in a Nascar race.
I will not be deterred from going back just because my hair now looks exactly like it did in the 7th grade.
I now have the time to study the brackets for the remaining World Cup games.