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)