Errant hair

I have several thoughts about hairs.

 1.  Have you ever found a random hair in your stuff and had no idea where it came from?  I just found a long blondish/brownish hair on my desk at my office, between the pages of a deposition transcript.  Not mine, not my clients, doesn’t match the head of anyone in the office.  I suppose it could have been the court reporter’s, but what the hell?  She’s leaving little presents for me in my depo transcripts?  I know it’s just a hair but I feel frustrated, bewildered and violated.  Hmph.

2.  Why are some people so offended by hairs anyway?  Is a single strand of hair really a dirty thing?  Certainly I don’t want strands of ANYTHING in my food, especially if such a strand has spend a good deal of time on another person’s head, but when you take an individual hair and inspect it, I think you have to admit it’s typically a fairly sterile looking thing.  We would certainly not be so offended by a strand of synthetic monofilament, but that’s not so different from what hair is.  So is it that we don’t know where it’s been?  Or that our imaginations provide us with too much information about where it could have been?  The fear and disgust seems irrational to me.  But it’s still there.

3.  Hair seems to have its place.  When its on someone’s head and is styled and clean, it can be wonderfully attractive.  Anywhere else, on or off the body, and it’s nasty.  What is this strange, inherent mystical power that hair posseses over our minds???

 Ugh.  I’m tired of hair now.  Somebody change the subject.

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