Fringe and a Haircut, My Two Cents

I breath in the air. There's a faint, yet recognizable scent that lingers in my nostrils. It's the scent of creativity, an absurd amount of it rolling towards Over-the-Rhine like a giant tidal wave. It's almost Fringe and I'm super excited.

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Or about to sneeze. I can never tell.

This marks my second year as the Associate Producer of Cincy Fringe. For four years before that I was an artist, bound to the show I was performing in, which provided a rather significant problem: I couldn't get a haircut. Or, at least, not the kind of haircut I usually like to get when the weather turns warm and the sun beats down. Last year, I lucked out by having a really cool haircut leftover from Know Theatre's production of Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson.

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Sweet doo, dude.

Of course, I'm not nearly cool enough to sport something like that year-round, so the sides have grown out and I've lost that rock-a-billy style I cherished for most of 2012. Though I'm not much of a superstituous person, I figured not sporting something similar this year would make for bad joo-joo, so it was about time to lower my ears – significantly. Lucky for me, my girlfriend happens to one of the best hairstylists in all of Cincinnati, so my scalp was in good hands.

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So what if I'm biased because she's my girlfriend. Love you, Courtnie! 

And away we went…

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And voila! From drab to fab in some slips of the clippers. A completely unique haircut that no one else at Fringe will-

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Goddamnit, Kevin…now we're all going to have to do it. *Thinks about Alex Kesman with a mohawk* Hehe…I love Fringe.

 

 

 

 

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