He got his hair permed when he got out of the Air Force, and was unsuccessfully trying to make a living as a painter, says longtime business partner Annette Kowalski.
Danny Hajek, NPR:
“He got this bright idea that he could save money on haircuts. So he let his hair grow, he got a perm, and decided he would never need a haircut again,” Kowalski explains.
Before he could change it back, though, the perm became his company’s logo — Ross hated it. “He could never, ever, ever change his hair, and he was so mad about that,” Kowalski says. “He got tired of that curly hair.”
Ross was a meticulous businessman whose every move on his TV series “The Joy of Painting,” was scripted in advance. He did three copies of every painting he did on the show. His art supply company is still in business today, more than 20 years after his death, and the show is coming to Netflix.
Kowalski discovered Ross “in the aftermath of a family tragedy.” Her oldest son was killed in a traffic accident. All she could do afterward “was lay on the house and watch television.”
She watched a painter named Bill Alexander, who was big on PBS back then. Kowalski’s husband was desperate to get her out of the house, so he signed her up for Alexander’s painting class, 900 miles away in Clearwater, Fla. But then Alexander stopped teaching and passed his classes off to an unknown protege.
“I was very disappointed,” Kowalski says. “I so wanted to paint with Bill Alexander. But my husband said, ‘Get up. Get in the car. We’re going.’ ”
It was a five-day class in a hotel conference room. At the easel upfront was a guy with a perm who went by Bob. His paintings were good, but when he started talking to the class, that’s when Kowalski knew she had met someone special.
“… went too close to the edge and got more than her pretty feet wet!” What does that even mean? She got her hair wet too?
Wild-ass guess: This photo may have been staged for an ad, maybe for hairspray or something like that. It’s too “on the nose,” as we say here in the 21st Century.
Style mavens say beards are soooooo over.
I never could grow a decent beard. I try every 10 years or so and then give up after about 10 days.
The recent mountain-man bristly beard thing was ridiculous unless you are, actually, a mountain man. If none of your recent meals have included meat from a bear your killed yourself, trim or shave your damn beard.
I tried this myself and got pretty much the same line-up. All but one of the women in the “unprofessional hairstyles” row were black. All the women in the “professional hairstyles” row are white.
I don’t blame Google. Google is reflecting the consensus of what websites say are professional vs. unprofessional hairstyles. That’s how Google works.
Professional and unprofessional hairstyles are as different as black and white [Rob Beschizza – Boing Boing]
“Man proposes, but God disposes,” goes the proverb. For example, Man has a certain way he planned Saturday, but instead the dog crapped the crate overnight.
I have no idea why Minnie did that. She was in there no longer than usual, had nothing unusual to eat before she went in.
I dragged the crate outside, washed everything down, went to PetCo to buy a new crate because I couldn’t figure out how to get the cover off the old one, laundered her bedding, and got everything assembled again in my office in time to put her to bed again.
I also stopped off at the drugstore and got a haircut. My hair was almost long enough to need combing, and I hate for it to get that long. I was a longhair when that was fashionable and I had enough hair for it to be a good look for me. But now my hair has receded enough that the only thing that looks good on me is a No. 2 cut or shorter. And I like the convenience of hair short enough to not need combing.
When I came into my office Sunday morning to let Minnie out again I led nose-first, as I did back when she was a pup and we were still figuring out how to crate-train her. The air in my office smelled nice and clean. No repeat of Friday night’s mishap – yay! The air was cleaner and fresher than it usually is, actually; even before her mishap that crate was overdue for washing out. She hasn’t soiled it in a couple of years before this weekend, but the crate and the area around it were very full of shed dog components.
In the process of dragging the crate in and out of the office, I wrenched my back, so I had some trouble bending over Sunday. The slouched position in which I usually sit on the sofa certainly didn’t help. On the other hand, the tall stool I sometimes sit on when I’m at my standing desk is fantastic for my back. As I write this, it’s Sunday night. I seem to be mostly improved now, if not entirely well.
And now I can wear flip-flops, which pleases me.