Come on, there are at least 3 Major Worries when you go get your lid trimmed:

1. Disappearing Choppers. Have you ever gone to your regular place and found your go-to person suddenly missing? Brother, that’s a bombshell. Plus, the gang left over can be pretty tight-lipped on details, too. No forwarding address, no new business cards, nothing. They just vanished and left only a few combs floating in the Barbicide for clues. Yes, now it’s time to step into the chair with The New Guy and grit your teeth, grab the handlebars, and brace yourself for a rickety journey down a dark mineshaft tunnel of horror. As the lights dim and you close your eyes, you hear the electric razor firing up in the distance…

2. Doing A New Do. Asking the stylist to try something new is pretty high up there on the Greatest Fears Of All Time List. It’s jussssst above three-hour root canal and jussssst below getting a snake thrown on you when you’re sleeping.

3. Getting One-Upped. This is where you’re getting your haircut and one of your barber’s more loyal customers walks in the door. You can tell this new guy is a somebody because they immediately start dominating the conversation while you become the third wheel and your barber goes superspeed and starts cutting corners. Sure, this doesn’t happen too often, but if you’ve ever been one-upped you know what I’m talking about.

Folks, if you’re nodding, you know the stress of getting a haircut. As the stylist peels the nylon apron off of your neck and brushes hair shards off your neck and onto your back, you cautiously check the mirror and scope the new you. Sometimes you strut confidently out of the salon like you’re in a slow-mo shampoo commercial, but other times you squint at yourself and frown slightly while cartoony question marks pop above your head like bubbles.

On days when you have doubts, that little “Hey, nice haircut” compliment can do wonders for your self-esteem. Because, come on, we’re all self-conscious about those little patches of scraggly knots up there. Most of us don’t know what’s going on with our hair so we just sort of grin and bear it for most of our lives.

That’s what makes haircut compliments so sweet.

Thanks for saying something.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here, here, and here

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AWESOME!

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AWESOME!

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AWESOME!

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Growing up, we occasionally holed up in the corner of McDonald’s when someone’s cool mom dropped some bills on a deliciously greasy birthday party. There was usually a giant mural along the wall with all the McDonaldland characters living fantasy lives in their all-burgers-all-the-time world. If you were lucky, you might even have played on the McDonaldland playground equipment with some of these guys:

• The Hamburglar. He’s dressed in black-and-white striped prison garb so we know he just escaped from the slammer. Maybe he broke out after a couple days of tuna melts and grilled cheeses. Anyway, I’m guessing he’s going to get caught again because that raccoon eye patch, oversized red tie, and Jackie O retro sunhat isn’t a great disguise.

• Mayor McCheese. Even though his head is a giant, wobbly cheeseburger, this guy is as suave as they come. Just look at the top hat, diplomat’s sash, and fancy reading specs. I feel like this greasy politician (hey-ohhhhhh!)  stumbled into the Happy Meal universe by accident. He should be at the opera or something.

• Captain Crook. Did anybody else think some lazy ad exec watched Peter Pan the night before inventing this guy?

• Ronald McDonald. Sadly, the red-haired clown was the most boring in the bunch. But then again, even though he looked like a hungover 30-year old in facepaint, he did inspire a generation of goths.

• Grimace. Everybody’s favorite, the purple giant played the lovable clumsy doofus of McDonaldland. Of course, in the original ads he had four arms, lived in a cave, and stole milkshakes. Just thinking about it gives me nightmares.

• Officer Big Mac. His giant two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun head prevents him from running fast enough through town to catch all the escaped convicts. That’s okay though, because his permanently frazzled eyebrows tell us he’s trying.

• Apple Pie Trees, Filet-O-Fish Lakes, and Hamburger Patches. In McDonaldland there were no beef processing plants, deep sea trawlers, or sugar kilns. Instead you just plucked hot hamburgers out of the patch, cast a line for Filets, and kicked the trunk of the Apple Pie Tree for dessert.

• Uncle O’Grimacey. Grimace’s Irish uncle visited in March and brought his delicious Shamrock Shakes with him. On another note, did anybody else ever wonder where Auntie O’Orangey was, because where did those delicious McArctic Orange shakes come from?

• Fry Guys. These guys were called Gobblins, Fry Guys, Fry Kids, Pac-Man Ghosts With Legs, or Rollerskating Pom Poms.

• Birdie the Early Bird. Poor Birdie was the only female in McDonaldland. She got out of bed early to tell us about the breakfast items. After that, I’m guessing she usually hit the pool hall or shooting range with Smurfette.

People, McDonaldland wasn’t a fictional place. No, it existed in the dimly-lit corner by the bathrooms and on the dangerous plastimold playground equipment in the parking lot.

It existed in the hearts and minds of kids everywhere because it was a place where we could be kids. Slam shots of orange drink, throw on some paper hats, play Pin the Arms on Grimace or Stack the Big Mac boxes, and scream as loud as you can. Then get bloated on sundaes, jump in the minivan, and smile a slow, sticky smile on the drive home.

Sure, maybe it was dangerous. Sure, maybe it wasn’t good for us.

But it sure was childhood.

And it sure was

AWESOME!

Photos from: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here

Photos of kids in McDonald’s used with permission of Angela

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Stepping into the dark restaurant, shaking off your umbrella, squeezing past the bar, you don’t know what you’re gonna get: Who’s gonna be here? Have they already ordered? Will there even be a chair?

If you’re like me, baby butterflies flap in your stomach when you stumble into Tonight’s Social Scene for the first time. Brushing rain off your eyebrows, unzipping your jacket, you smile nervously as you spot your friends and walk over to their crowded table in the back.

And if your entrance is marked by heads turning, forks dropping, fists raising, and loud cheers, it means you’re hanging with a great group. So smile and accept their little Welcome Package of hugs and high-fives.

It’s gonna be a great night.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

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Monday is the new Sunday.

Sunday is the new Saturday. Now you can make late night plans without excuses. No sister-in-laws will be zipping up diaper bags and tying their kid’s shoelaces in the front hallway at 8:30pm this time. Nope, on long weekend Sundays the party’s just getting started, so toss the seven-year-old on the bed full of jackets upstairs, and get ready to rock.

Saturday is Uncharted Territory. This is the Bermuda Triangle of the long weekend. You’ve got two more days to finish your algebra homework, plant the tulip bulbs, or mow the lawn, so that all falls off the radar. Yes, today’s the day for a movie marathon, long drive to see the grandkids, or late night out with your old friends from high school.

When you suddenly remember it’s a long weekend it’s time for some head spins. Your brain races with possibilities ahead and you’re filled with a tingly buzz of excitement. Yes, you ran up the bumpy hills of Monday and Tuesday, scraped by a muddy Wednesday, and clawed through the frozen tundra of Thursday and Friday.

Now you’re at the top of the mountain breathing the fresh air of the long weekend.

And it is glorious.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here and here

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People, it’s true — the sun rose, the sun set, months went by, and the earth actually tilted on its axis before this moment could appear before you.

So smile a big smile on your way to school and just enjoy the crispy crunch that comes when your sneakers smash a brittle little leaf into smithereens.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

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And it’s not just that:

1. Shhhh. When you slip onto fresh road the background noise fades away and everyone realizes they can chat in a normal voice again. It’s a nice, relaxing feeling, and it sort of makes your car feel more expensive, like you tossed down a fistful of hundreds at the dealership for some primo soundproofing upgrades.

2. Gimme a break. When you start cruising smooth it’s like driving becomes a lot easier. You’re no longer swerving past giant dirt potholes on the way out of the cottage or watching you don’t slip off of pebbly gravel edges beside the ditch. Thinking of giving both your arms a rest simultaneously? Now’s a good time.

3. Mechanic on duty. I don’t know about you, but sometimes when I’m on a rough stretch of road my tires start make whirring, click-clacking sounds and I convince myself that something’s wrong with my car. I know, I know, I’m a real hypocardriac (hey-ohhhhhh!) But seriously folks, doesn’t it feel good when you drive onto a smooth road, perk your ears up, and realize that nothing’s wrong with your hunk of junk?

Driving from a rough road onto a smooth one is a tiny gift to the road weary. You don’t know when it’s coming, you don’t know long it’ll last, but for a those few fleeting moments you smile and relax in a quiet little meditation on wheels.

AWESOME!

Photos from: here, here, and here

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Look left, look right, and yank.

AWESOME!

Photo from: here

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