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.
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.
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.
So what if I'm biased because she's my girlfriend. Love you, Courtnie!
And away we went…
And voila! From drab to fab in some slips of the clippers. A completely unique haircut that no one else at Fringe will-
Goddamnit, Kevin…now we're all going to have to do it. *Thinks about Alex Kesman with a mohawk* Hehe…I love Fringe.