The following dialogue took place circa 1971:

Dad: “This Saturday I want you to go get your hair cut.”

Me: “No.  I want to keep it long.”

Dad: “No.  You need to get it cut.”

Me: “I don’t want to cut it.”

Dad: “You’ve got to get it cut so do it this Saturday.”

Me: “No I don’t!  I don’t have to cut it.  It’s my hair!”

Dad: “No… it’s not.  It’s the family’s hair.”

What?! The family’s hair?!  I was speechless.  What can you say to something like that?   I inherently knew what my dad was implying.  He was giving the “big picture”.   So now, if I dismissed that as a concept, then I would be showing how completely shallow and unaware I am, which would then, of course, give dad the right to bypass me regarding my personal grooming and so force the haircut issue.  I was boxed in a corner.  What a brilliant tactic.  A lawyer move.  He must have learned stuff like that when he was working on getting his doctorate at the university.

My hair was short that next Saturday.

(From Song/Chapter 2, “Fifty Years”,  This Lifetime)