The Locks of Lunacy

I talked to an old college roommate this past week who told me he made a vow with God that he would not cut his long, shaggy brown hair until he finally found his wife. 

And all of you thought I was crazy. 

For full effect, download "Vengeance" by Blue Oyster Cult and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post. 

I'm being serious, this sponge of a man thought in order to find the girl of his dreams all he needed to do was give the big man upstairs an ultimatum that if this maiden was not placed in his path with no questions asked, he would then be forced to go on a haircutting strike for the rest of his life and would end up looking like the hippie drummer from Three Dog Night.  

Now if you're the creator of the entire known universe what is your response to this challenge?

God: "Well, out of the seven billion people dealing with ailments such as murder, rape, disease, poverty, sickness, starvation, ethnic crimes, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, Communism, and watching reruns of Jersey Shore, I'm going to put everyone else on hold and focus solely on you. Just so I can gift-wrap a female companion on your doorstep and make sure your barber doesn't go broke."

I bet my allegiance to the Ohio State University that isn't what the big guy is saying.

We live in a world that is shrugging off responsibility faster than 80's fashion. The concept of being responsible for your actions is something only our Grandparents seem to understand, with every single one of us inching closer to the concept of placing blame on someone else for our calamities. We live in a world that thrives on not pushing our own personal envelopes, that thinks it is improper to be held accountable for anything.  

We live in a world where we are comfortable with being mediocre. 

I say comfortable because we are a lazy society as a whole. We don’t want to take a stand for the decisions that we do or do not make. We are force-fed the false doctrine of always taking the easiest route possible in life. And the easiest route in my dear old chap’s existence is blanking at the thought of asking a girl out to dinner every once in a while and putting all the ownership on the shoulder of the man who he feels created him. 

And that’s why on a daily basis I’m sure he gets mistaken for a homeless panhandler who doesn’t believe in using scissors.

You may say that lazy is such a strong term to be using, but the bottom line is that slothful word defines us to the T. We are lazy about the choices we make. We are lazy about the relationships we nurture. We are idle, we are unmotivated, lethargically waiting for Karma or good fortune or whatever paranormal superpower we believe in to conveniently position people in our lives that will be stuck with us until we live out our days on this porn-infested planet.

And that’s the way of life my old roommate is living by. Blaming a religious figure as to why he looks like a bum and can’t find a girl to put up with him.

Maybe he'll get his wish. Maybe the God he believes in will keep his end of the pathetically engineered bargain. Maybe he’ll finally cross paths with the girl of his dreams who has a fetish for unwashed locks that are longer than hers. And maybe, just maybe, he will finally be able to walk out of Varsity Cuts looking like a man born in the 20^th century. It’s a long shot I know, but maybe the stars will align and this will be a benchmark event in his existence bearing witness to how we as human beings should live our lives, by making wagers with a higher power on the basis of poor hygiene.

And all of you thought I was crazy.