Day Four of Air Force Basic Training and I still had hair. I can’t serve my country with thick, black curls, wearing my favorite Motörhead T-shirt. When’s the real military shit gonna start, like push-ups, uniforms, and saluting? After 90 hours of getting yelled at, hurry up and wait, and filling out forms among 17-year-old knuckleheads, I was marched beneath a punishing Texas July sun to the barbershop. “Do it! Shave me! Make me an airman, damnit,” yells my inner patriot. The fastest, cleanest haircut ever leaves me as freshly bald as my original Day Four. I’m reborn and ready.
Jay Heltzer still has short hair and is writing microfiction and his first novel near Washington, D.C. Find Jay on Twitter @JayHeltzer .