Because Apparently I Never Tire Of This Subject

Did anybody see Oprah today?

And did anybody wonder WHAT IN THE SAM HILL is going on with Oprah’s hair?

I mean, I love me some Oprah and all, but this whole letting-it-grow-out thing? I feel it’s a terrible hair miscalculation. Oprah is sassy, and as such her hair should be sassy.

But make no mistake: today’s hair was most definitely not sassy. It was the antithesis of sassy. It might even be the hair where sassy throws up its hands and resigns itself to matronly.

And in the interest of Full Hair Disclosure, I have to admit: Bill Clinton’s hair on today’s Oprah? ROCKIN’. He knew it, too. You could tell. In fact, I half expected him to pull a Fonzie by raking through his distinguished gray layers with a black plastic comb while Oprah was asking him questions.

Also: I’ll have to consult my pretend Oprah Hair Diary, but I believe that today was the first time I’ve ever seen Oprah’s hair upstaged by a man’s. This is not good.

Which reminds me.

I keep forgetting to tell y’all that the last time we went to Memphis, I saw a sign in someone’s yard that said “Carol’s Act of Faith Haircare.”

Think on that one for just a minute.

Now I can only hope that Carol’s sign is a physical testimony to the fact that it was an act of faith for her to open her own business. Because honestly, I just don’t know that I’d be entirely comfortable visiting Carol for my haircare needs if a literal act of faith is required on either of our parts in order for her to cut and style my hair.

The irony, of course, is that I type this I’m in a near-panic about what in the world to do about my hair before I leave for the Deeper Still conference in Nashville this weekend. Since the Hair Wizard is visiting South America for the whole month of September, I’m feeling a smidge desperate.

I will even confess to you – because you are my Hair Accountability Partners – that it’s taking every ounce of resolve I have not to run down to the CVS and pick up a home haircolor solution.

And really, I know in my head that the expression “home haircolor solution” is an oxymoron. But the flesh is weak, my friends.

Y’all may have to intercede for me. I’m so blinded by the need for MORE BLONDE right now that I can’t even pray for myself. I fear that I’m destined for a pit of hair despair.

I am but a weak, increasingly-gray-at-the-roots vessel.

Maybe I should hop in the car and head toward Memphis.

It would require an act of faith, but Carol might just be able to help.