A Woman’s Hair Is Her Crown

So when I decided to go au natural hair a couple of years ago, there was a major problem I didn’t anticipate. Ten to twelve inches of hair brushing your shoulders is hot in the summer but it is not a safety hazard. Take those same strands of black silk, remove the chemicals inch by inch until they acquire the texture of soft yarn, then gather them above the highest point of your cerebrum like a bath sponge just for kicks. Pick it all out as far as your elbow will extend. Now, try to get that beehive into a car without smashing it on the interior and ruining your natural, queen-like crown. Sure you can lower the seat but I’m only 5’5″ tall. Today, I had the dealer remove the driver’s seat so I can get my hair in the car. I’m sure I’m going to get a ticket. I pity the officer trying to think of which law to cite as “driving under the influence of an afro” is more controversial than Brad Paisley’s new song “Accidental Racist.” Opening the sun roof doesn’t help. Birds come from as far away as San Antonio and Dallas when they hear about the cheap real estate in my Austin based hair. I don’t know how folks did this back in the 70’s. I guess the cars were a lot taller or maybe they had bigger eyes. Guess that explains all the blue eye shadow. Sighhhhhhh…And I won’t even start with the whining from the folks behind me at the movie theater. Seriously, it’s basically like sitting behind a 6′ tall person. Does anyone complain about that? Get over it or lean your head to one side like I do when I drive. 🙂