Here I am sitting on the plane where "we have reached an altitude where electronic devices may now be used." A woman brought in a bouquet of lilacs, so I am guessing that the entire plane is going to stink like floral ass for the next 3 hours and 20 minutes. Lovely.
But that's not why I am writing this.
A gentleman just ahead of me has a comb-over hair-do than puts Donald Trump to shame. I sit here wondering how he manages to construct such an elaborate system of swirls and swoops on top of his head each morning. I'm guessing he's got at least 3 feet of hair in a carefully stacked layers, criss-crossing from one side of his head to the other and finally culminating in a fierce swirl around the perimeter. It's absolutely bizarre, yet I cannot look away. It is taking all the willpower I've got to refrain from whipping out my camera and taking a photo. This is a work of art, baby!
NOTE TO SELF: If baldness should suddenly attack, admit defeat and move on with your life.