I’ve had a rather severe haircut….

I blame my son. He works part-time at Murdock, probably the coolest of the new breed of old-style barber shops that have sprung up in the parts of London where hipsters hang. He texted the young barber with precise instructions on how to shear my frothy, Lionel Blairfro into something very short and contemporary. It’s a great haircut if your face is smooth, young and handsome. Mine isn’t. Not sure it ever was so at best I now look like a grizzled US drill sergeant just back from Vietnam. At worst, an ageing rent boy. So, appropriately enough, I’m playing something by The Crew Cuts. Life could be a dream? It will be when my hair grows back.