Uncut

First of all, I know better than to walk into a bookstore with a credit card.  But, once again I did.  Only because Ember had a gift card burning a hole through her pocket.  So, I acquiesced.  I actually did pretty well containing my book obsession, but only because I had just ordered books on Amazon.com days before.  And because I recently fostered a magazine obsession.  Consisting of Psychology Today and anything fitness related.  And now this...

Jeff Buckley's photo from the cover of his cd Grace

Jeff Buckley on the cover of Uncut magazine.  I'd never even heard of this particular publication before and I wouldn't have paid attention because it sounds like it's either about crafting or cigars, neither of which I'm interested in. But, Jeff Buckley?  One of the most talented musicians of our time who died tragically before his time?  I'll read anything and everything about him.  Especially if it comes with a free cd.  Of other musicians that don't sound anything like Jeff Buckley and will likely end up on the shelf at Goodwill very soon.  Or shoved under a seat in my car where it will reside for years covered in cracker crumbs glued to a juice box straw.

So, as I sat staring at the cover for an inappropriately long time, I thought about what we're drawn to in a face of the opposite sex.  Studies show that we enamoured with features that are very similar to our own.  Ever seen those couples that look like brother and sister, but they're not?  For breeding purposes, the more your mate looks like you, the greater chances your offspring will too and will carry on your genes.  It's creepy weird to think we'd be sexually attracted to someone who looks like us.  But, we are a generation of narcissists after all.  So, it's a great way to ensure our love of ourselves lives on by popping out a mini-me.

Studying his long face, fluffy mullet exposing his receding hairline, brooding eyes framed with thick caterpillar eyebrows and pouty lips I saw it.  Me.  Circa 1988, pre-eyebrow plucking obsession.

Ungraceful me with Jeff Buckley hair and eyebrows

I'm thinking if this writing thing doesn't work out, maybe I could re-mullet my hair and become a Jeff Buckley impersonator who doesn't and shouldn't ever sing.  Except maybe I'm the only person who'd hire myself and that would be really, really creepy weird and narcissistic.

For now I think I'll keep my hair uncut.  (Maybe I could be a Sebastian Bach impersonator.)