BEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

How thrilling it feels to stand on the back porch of the new millennium and spit into the septic tank that was the 20th century. A cesspool of fake-looking wigs and torture chamber bleach jobs. Of barbaric styling brushes and Farrah Fawcett hair.

The future promises fabulous new technology undreamed of by our pathetic grandmothers who hid their mangy tresses under matronly church hats or tacky scarves. In the 2000's a dowdy woman born with mousey, rat-sucked hair will wake up from general anesthesia with a delightful crop of springy curls. The lucky lady will have to fight her suitors off with a stick. And the entire procedure will be covered by her HMO!

Scientists will offer hair to the bald and baldness to the hirsute. Most exciting of all are the advances made possible by combining the DNA of furry species with that of bare-assed humans. In the past, when a lady of means admired the pelt of a fluffy rodent or a precious, dog-like creature, somebody had to kill it and skin it and do something so it wouldn't stink. In tomorrow's world, she will make an appointment with a genetic engineer. Her friends will drool with envy when she shows up at the next charity gala in her VERY OWN sable coat and they're wearing those moth-eaten minks.

And what about the people who struggle day in and day out to make it look as if they had a porcupine, poodle or skunk sitting on top of their heads? Guys like Lenny Kravitz, Kramer, and Thomas Tocco. Animal-to-human hair transplants will make messy styling gel obsolete. Nature lovers may opt for a putting green, pansies, or a field of hay. The possibilities are endless, thanks to modern surgical techniques and anti-rejection drugs.

Pretty soon we will look at pictures of ourselves from the 1900's and die of embarrassment. We will realize how repulsive we must have looked to animals all this time--like some monkey with a large behind. Lucky for us, in the future we will be completely furry and no one will know when our face is red.

Everyone will be way cuter in the 21st century. Of course, there will be stragglers. Members of weird cults who will wear their hair the stupid, old-fashioned way. But they will live on the fringe of society, far away from our gleaming missiles and neighborhood launch pads. Similar to men who refused to grow long side-burns in 1973, they won't get many dates.

Tails will be considered our crowning glory. They will start out as an accidental side-effect of genetic engineering--and lots of people will freak out. But soon they'll grow on us and fashion experts will consider them the ultimate expression of beauty and individuality, much as hair was viewed in the 20th century. Our tails will tell people who we are. Consider the possibilities! Beaver tail, skunk tail, possum. Squirrel tail, bunny tail, bobcat, just to name a few.

Mankind has always wanted tails. Remember the pony tail, pig tail and duck tail, crude hair-dos created with primitive implements such as rubber bands and Brylcreme. All that stuff will wind up in a museum, along with the pink sponge rollers, rat tail combs and Aquanet I use everyday at my beauty shop here in Axel.

Where does that leave the licensed cosmetologist?

Sadly, the very beauty shop itself may become a thing of the past, as the public becomes more and more reliant on genetic engineers to fix their hair. Those with vegetation growing on their heads will look to gardeners for basic maintenance. At least people with furry scalps will need a flea dip now and then. Perhaps this will be the salvation of beauticians. Combing the grass burrs out of some quarterback's tail or braiding the tails of the horsey set.

At least we will be needed. That's why it is more important than ever for beauticians to stay on the cutting edge. So that we, along with the world's top scientists, can navigateBEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

How thrilling it feels to stand on the back porch of the new millennium and spit into the septic tank that was the 20th century. A cesspool of fake-looking wigs and torture chamber bleach jobs. Of barbaric styling brushes and Farrah Fawcett hair.

The future promises fabulous new technology undreamed of by our pathetic grandmothers who hid their mangy tresses under matronly church hats or tacky scarves. In the 2000's a dowdy woman born with mousey, rat-sucked hair will wake up from general anesthesia with a delightful crop of springy curls. The lucky lady will have to fight her suitors off with a stick. And the entire procedure will be covered by her HMO!

Scientists will offer hair to the bald and baldness to the hirsute. Most exciting of all are the advances made possible by combining the DNA of furry species with that of bare-assed humans. In the past, when a lady of means admired the pelt of a fluffy rodent or a precious, dog-like creature, somebody had to kill it and skin it and do something so it wouldn't stink. In tomorrow's world, she will make an appointment with a genetic engineer. Her friends will drool with envy when she shows up at the next charity gala in her VERY OWN sable coat and they're wearing those moth-eaten minks.

And what about the people who struggle day in and day out to make it look as if they had a porcupine, poodle or skunk sitting on top of their heads? Guys like Lenny Kravitz, Kramer, and Thomas Tocco. Animal-to-human hair transplants will make messy styling gel obsolete. Nature lovers may opt for a putting green, pansies, or a field of hay. The possibilities are endless, thanks to modern surgical techniques and anti-rejection drugs.

Pretty soon we will look at pictures of ourselves from the 1900's and die of embarrassment. We will realize how repulsive we must have looked to animals all this time--like some monkey with a large behind. Lucky for us, in the future we will be completely furry and no one will know when our face is red.

Everyone will be way cuter in the 21st century. Of course, there will be stragglers. Members of weird cults who will wear their hair the stupid, old-fashioned way. But they will live on the fringe of society, far away from our gleaming missiles and neighborhood launch pads. Similar to men who refused to grow long side-burns in 1973, they won't get many dates.

Tails will be considered our crowning glory. They will start out as an accidental side-effect of genetic engineering--and lots of people will freak out. But soon they'll grow on us and fashion experts will consider them the ultimate expression of beauty and individuality, much as hair was viewed in the 20th century. Our tails will tell people who we are. Consider the possibilities! Beaver tail, skunk tail, possum. Squirrel tail, bunny tail, bobcat, just to name a few.

Mankind has always wanted tails. Remember the pony tail, pig tail and duck tail, crude hair-dos created with primitive implements such as rubber bands and Brylcreme. All that stuff will wind up in a museum, along with the pink sponge rollers, rat tail combs and Aquanet I use everyday at my beauty shop here in Axel.

Where does that leave the licensed cosmetologist?

Sadly, the very beauty shop itself may become a thing of the past, as the public becomes more and more reliant on genetic engineers to fix their hair. Those with vegetation growing on their heads will look to gardeners for basic maintenance. At least people with furry scalps will need a flea dip now and then. Perhaps this will be the salvation of beauticians. Combing the grass burrs out of some quarterback's tail or braiding the tails of the horsey set.

At least we will be needed. That's why it is more important than ever for beauticians to stay on the cutting edge. So that we, along with the world's top scientists, can navigate