Cottonwood tree, Avenue C, Powell, Wyoming

My barber says I have great hair. It's the nicest thing that's been said to me in a long time.

My barber's a guy who tells the truth, an Italian whose mother was born in Calabria, very much a straight shooter, and I'm flattered when he says what he says.

He could be saying much more of course--the shape of my head is beautiful, that he admires the way my ears lay against my scalp so neatly, not like some people whose ears look like flying saucers, that my chin's good and strong.

Saying I have great hair is really nice, though I'd really like to hear him say that there's no one like me in the whole world. I'd pay him to say this, even give him a tip.