Number One son flew into the Big City early this afternoon and took an airport shuttle to our town where I picked him up at the bus stop drop off. A few mintues after we arrived home he said he wanted to get a hair cut and he thought he would just run to the hair salon because it was such a nice day (40 degrees and sunny). The hair salon is basically a 1.75 miles round trip, straight down the street that intersects ours, in a strip mall. One and three-quarters of a mile,...remember that. It takes me about twenty mintues to walk each way, or at least it did when I last walked it years ago. I guessed I had about a half hour or more to get a few things done before he arrrived back home if he didn't have to wait at the salon. I figured mid afternoon would probably be pretty slow there. He wore blue jeans and a t-shirt and took off with his long strided jog. He stands well over six feet. THIRTEEN MINUTES later I look out the front door glass storm door and see him jogging up our sidewalk ...and I can see his hair has been cut or rather shaved in his case. He wears a very short military type cut. He did run cross-country in high school, but never even made varsity team. I said, "You only left THIRTEEN MINUTES ago!" He just chuckled and said,"Well, I just ran into the salon and she took out the hedge trimmers, cut my hair, I paid, and ran back home. But now what do I do?"
Gee, I don't know, why don't you negotiate World Peace in the next fifteen minutes.