HoggFest

Yesterday Helen and I dropped by Hoggfest , a community gathering to benefit a local gentleman struggling with the complications of single parenthood and cancer. There was food, a band and the crew from Neal's Hair Salon donating their services in exchange for a love offering. I sat in the chair first, then coaxed Helen into having her hair done.

I watched her, features muted in the softened light of a shade tree while her long locks were trimmed, the excess hair blowing down the road. We didn’t speak, no point to it as the rocking band across the way entertained with speakers at jet decibel. A gray headed lady capered in the street, intricate dance steps ending in a jaunty kick.

We did forego the barbecue (vegetarian, moi) but I treated her to chocolate cheesecake with this season’s sweet strawberries.

Neither she, my darling girl, nor I spend time or money in hair salons; we are a woodsy, we are wooly, we tend not to invest in our vanities. But this event, a communal gathering, a community grooming no less, was a lightening not only of the excesses of harried hair gone wild but an excuse to practice generosity, nurturance, and support.

Sadhu, sadhu. I honor those who transformed community into opportunity.