A few thoughts on hair cutting

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Got my locks shaped at a hairdresser. Granted, both locks and shaping leans more to hyperbolic dreaming than to the actual happenings at the salon. A few observations about this process: Why is it that as I grow older, I've got less hair every time but the price either stays the same or increases? There is something wrong with a profession that, over time, does less work for more money. Why is it that my eyebrows grows much faster than the hair on my head? For some reason evolution deemed it more probable that my eyes will get sunburn rather than my scalp, and this vexes me. Was the person who invented clippers and turned it loose for hairdressers to abuse hair with, a sadistic brute? Only a brute could possibly think that the gentle swish of scissors in a lady's hands should be replaced by the bristly coarseness of that whirring horror (lucky for me, my hairdresser used scissors, she is obviously a very civilised person). And why is it that some cuttings will always, and every time, work their way into the most awkward places? I've come to think of the entire process as a form of revenge perpetrated on my person by the peeved hairs being cut, mangled and shaped in obedience. At least She Who Looks At Me Every Day thinks I look better. Oh well, no accounting for taste