The first thing this morning I hopped into the shower and grabbed the shampoo.As I dispensed a bit, I read the label which included the word "Professional". It got me wondering "What is even remotely professional about that?" It seems that everyday I am being offered a product that is 'Pro' this or 'Pro' that. I started wondering if I had the wrong idea about the meaning of the word. So I looked it up. (Yes, I walked right out of the shower, went straight to the living room and stood there buck naked, dripping wet, pulled the Websters dictionary off the shelf and read it.) The definition was "Professional: Following an occupation as a means of livelihood or for gain: a professional builder." Well,OK.then.
It seems me that any item that I can buy at WalMart should not really be considered a Professional grade product. I go back to the still running shower and rinse out my hair. I put on some shaving cream, also a 'Pro-Series' then grabbed my new Pro-Glide razor. My mind starts to race. As I began to shave it occured to me that if this is truly a product for professionals why am I using it? Never once in my life has anyone offered to pay me for shaving my face. I can imagine it though. The paparazzi all clamoring around me flashbulbs a poppin' and microphones being thrust in my face. "Mr. LeClere, Mr. LeClere, to what do you attribute your great fame and wealth?" "Well, I was kind to animals, I ate all the veggies on my plate and every day I SHAVED MY FACE!!!" All this is followed by a hushed silence as everyone silently nods in agreement.If only it worked that way.
Later in the day I decided it was time to get my hair cut. Where else to go, but the local "Pro Cuts" at the mall. I have no idea why they call it that,no self respecting professional would let these people touch their hair. In fact I did not see one person there who really qualified as a 'Pro" Just a lot of kids and the occasional once upon a time athlete. You know the kind I mean? Six foot five, tribal tattoo on the bicep, wearing sunglasses backwards, mouth breather with a buzz cut, and about 60 pounds overweight. Also notable is that the guy is wearing the baggy multi-colored M.C. Hammer style pants with a pattern that is best described as "Puking kaleidoscope", and a black sleeveless tee shirt with the W.W.F. logo and a picture of the Undertaker. I bet I see this guy at the Walmart in about half an hour.
I sit down in the salon chair, tell the stylist what I would like to see, and she proceeds to give me a haircut that will be an embarrassment to me for the next 6 weeks. As she is cutting my hair, she mentions that I should not worry about the way things look now, it will grow back in.
This is of little reassurance to me. I reminded her that the rest of the hair keeps growing too, so pretty much my hair will look this bad for the duration. It turns out that this is the equivalent of sending your steak back at the restaurant, because it is undercooked. You get the steak back cooked properly, but you don't dare eat it because someone spit in it. In this case, when she went to trim the hair off my neck with the electric clippers, she spent what seemed to be an eternity and I asked if everything was alright? "Oh yes it is fine" she said. " I am just being careful to make it straight." and she shot me a smile that reminded me of Satan welcoming me to hell.
After the haircut I made my way over to the Walmart to look for a more items that had "Pro" but could not possibly be used in any professional capacity. I was reading the label of a can of baby formula, "Enfamil Pro-Sobee" to see what made this suitable for professional babies, when I heard "Hey Putz!"
I turned around to see my mouth breathing friend in the technicolor pants from the salon. I asked him what possessed him to call me that? He pointed to the back of my head. I went to the nearest mirror and saw that etched onto the back of my skull, the stylist had buzzed in the offending word. It is embarrassing.
But it will grow back in.
It seems me that any item that I can buy at WalMart should not really be considered a Professional grade product. I go back to the still running shower and rinse out my hair. I put on some shaving cream, also a 'Pro-Series' then grabbed my new Pro-Glide razor. My mind starts to race. As I began to shave it occured to me that if this is truly a product for professionals why am I using it? Never once in my life has anyone offered to pay me for shaving my face. I can imagine it though. The paparazzi all clamoring around me flashbulbs a poppin' and microphones being thrust in my face. "Mr. LeClere, Mr. LeClere, to what do you attribute your great fame and wealth?" "Well, I was kind to animals, I ate all the veggies on my plate and every day I SHAVED MY FACE!!!" All this is followed by a hushed silence as everyone silently nods in agreement.If only it worked that way.
Later in the day I decided it was time to get my hair cut. Where else to go, but the local "Pro Cuts" at the mall. I have no idea why they call it that,no self respecting professional would let these people touch their hair. In fact I did not see one person there who really qualified as a 'Pro" Just a lot of kids and the occasional once upon a time athlete. You know the kind I mean? Six foot five, tribal tattoo on the bicep, wearing sunglasses backwards, mouth breather with a buzz cut, and about 60 pounds overweight. Also notable is that the guy is wearing the baggy multi-colored M.C. Hammer style pants with a pattern that is best described as "Puking kaleidoscope", and a black sleeveless tee shirt with the W.W.F. logo and a picture of the Undertaker. I bet I see this guy at the Walmart in about half an hour.
I sit down in the salon chair, tell the stylist what I would like to see, and she proceeds to give me a haircut that will be an embarrassment to me for the next 6 weeks. As she is cutting my hair, she mentions that I should not worry about the way things look now, it will grow back in.
This is of little reassurance to me. I reminded her that the rest of the hair keeps growing too, so pretty much my hair will look this bad for the duration. It turns out that this is the equivalent of sending your steak back at the restaurant, because it is undercooked. You get the steak back cooked properly, but you don't dare eat it because someone spit in it. In this case, when she went to trim the hair off my neck with the electric clippers, she spent what seemed to be an eternity and I asked if everything was alright? "Oh yes it is fine" she said. " I am just being careful to make it straight." and she shot me a smile that reminded me of Satan welcoming me to hell.
After the haircut I made my way over to the Walmart to look for a more items that had "Pro" but could not possibly be used in any professional capacity. I was reading the label of a can of baby formula, "Enfamil Pro-Sobee" to see what made this suitable for professional babies, when I heard "Hey Putz!"
I turned around to see my mouth breathing friend in the technicolor pants from the salon. I asked him what possessed him to call me that? He pointed to the back of my head. I went to the nearest mirror and saw that etched onto the back of my skull, the stylist had buzzed in the offending word. It is embarrassing.
But it will grow back in.
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