I had a fairly normal, fairly good childhood. Every morning, since kindergarten, I would simply wake up and put on some clean clothes and head to school. I never put a second thought to how I looked or really even how others percieved me.

My first glimpse into the world of vanity occured in the middle of my 4th grade school year. One day, out of the blue, two other kids (who I would hesitate to call "friends," although at the time I guess I thought they were, or at least hoped they were) asked me "Hey Bryan, how come you never comb your hair?" I was dumbfounded. I couldn't even comprehend the question they had asked me. I was like "What? My hair?" Touching the top of my head in confusion. I looked at the other two boys, Richard Leon and Maxwell Rush, and they had perfectly sculpted little boy hair dos. This was the beginning of at least 3 years of extreme vanity for myself and at least a few residule years before I really understood the complex nature of the beast.

Anywho, I went home that day and asked my mom, "Mom, how do you comb your hair?" Well, she showed me. I practiced, I stroked, I brushed, and eventually I gelled. I went through a variety of hair gels, trying to get the perfect mallibility and sculptability necessary to achieve my cosmotological needs. Eventually I had done it. I had achieved what I considered to be the perfect hair.

It looked like this.



Well, when I started my first day of middle school I was ready to take 5th graders by storm. Every morning I would spend every last minute preparing my do, to make it just right. Well, that is, until I missed the school bus a few times. Then the iron fist came down. My dad said to me, "Bryan, If you miss the bus one more time because you were combing your hair, you won't be able to comb it ever again." I was shocked, no, devestated. I would have to maximize efficiency in order to make sure I could maintain perfect hair.

Nonetheless, this was the begining of the end for perfect hair. Soon my love of my perfectly sculpted helmet of folicles began to dwindle. Not too long after that I realized that my hair was perfect as is. Now I have basically reverted to my original style, Old School, if you will. I little shake of the towel in the morning and I'm good to go, but I will never forget those few years in the early 90s when all I wanted was some quality hair gel that wouldn't harden too much, but could maintain structure.