Guido takes off

Guido is utterly fearless. On a scale of one to ten in the fearless stakes I’d say he’s a solid nine and a half. You need look no further for evidence of his fearlessness than to witness Guido in the café kitchen decapitating a prawn or cooking multiple orders of French Toast. Naturally it will come as no surprise to anyone who regularly reads this blog to know I’m generally the opposite to fearless.  I’m a total scaredy cat. On the terrified of nothing scale I barely register.

My irrational fear of all things silly began when I was very small and I accidentally confused the top of a tomato for a tarantula. Yes, back then my life as a tiny child was fraught with fears and danger. Like worrying about being accidentally sucked down the plug hole at the end of bath-time or some random ant crawling into my ear at the park and deciding to stick around and set up an entire colony in my brain. It was also around this time I developed my fear of men playing the bagpipes so I’m pretty sure it’s why as an adult I’ve never seriously considered dating a Scotsman. It was simply too risky as you never knew when he might suddenly start enthusiastically blowing into something.

Fears, particularly the stupid variety, are difficult to shake off. Escalators, for example, still make me panic. Every time I climb on one I fret about what would happen if my shoes laces got trapped in the inner workings and my body was agonisingly chewed up in the middle of the shopping mall.  Fear makes my thoughts illogical, especially if something unexpectedly weird happens in our street and I’ll start to imagine I’m being secretly filmed for an anarchic episode of Candid Camera. Although I do realise being publically humiliated on national television could be worth getting jittery over, it’s nothing compared to being eaten alive by a staircase.

The great thing about fear is, it’s never rationed, there’s always plenty room for more. And so it goes on. Like worrying about whether my abnormal craving for Boston Baked Cheesecake means there’s actually a tape worm inside me the size of a fireman’s hose, or, like when I lay awake at 3am stupidly pondering what the chances are of me being falsely accused and convicted of murder.  I’m a complete whacko. Obviously I’d appeal.

So when I got home last night I discovered Guido’s fearlessness in a new and daring way which involved a visit to the barber and a crew cut.

“I felt like a change so thought I’d be fearless with my hair,” he said running his fingers through absolutely nothing. Once I’d got over the initial shock I rubbed the back of his head where his man-bun used to live.

“You look like a USSR cosmonaught circa 1966.” Which I have to tell you in a post Glasnost way I was actually finding quite hot. “What time is the next Sputnik blastoff?”

Guido looked at his watch.

“According to mission control it’s T minus 30.”  He started motioning upwards with his index finger. “How do you fancy coming into orbit with me upstairs in the loft? I could do with some practice with my re-entry.”

For some strange reason I did not find this worrying at all.

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45 thoughts on “Guido takes off

  1. I must say that when my husband was on active duty in the military, there was nothing sexier than his high and tight, which is what his cut was called. I was always rubbing his buzzed head….ahhh memories 🙂

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  2. Great stuff, as ever! A crew cut? It’s alright for some. Guido’s bravery is enviable indeed; I’ve been chickening out of a new ‘do’ for years now.

    Oh, and I’m with you on escalators – especially going down. They are a terror. When I was a child I used to press the emergency stop button before negotiating!

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  3. Well, after your post here, maybe I should date a Scotsman next!!! I’m pretty fearless myself except when it comes time to drive over a very high bridge, can’t do it. Now, your escalator problem. On the bottom where you get on, next time, hit the emergency stop button. Then preceded!!!! No worries!

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  4. Several years ago as we passed through the Infernal Chaos that is known as Heathrow we were transferring between Terminals 3 and 5 or 2 and 3 or … well whatever. There is a moving sidewalk – a very old but powerful and menacing moving sidewalk – in one of the many dimly lit, dank tunnels filled with scurrying people pushing and pulling at luggage trolleys. At the end of that sidewalk the metal teeth swallow up the slats of iron that form the sidewalk at an alarming rate. I was wearing a really great pair of Italian leather sneakers with fashionably long laces …. did you know there is no automatic stop when something gets caught in those things??????

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      • All joking aside it was fucking scary! I was literally thrown to the ground face first with a luggage trolley bearing down on me as Laurent frantically tried hitting the stop button at the end The laces tore through the leather and padding on the sneakers – they were repairable. The Airport authority type who saw it all, watched me disengage myself, struggle up and dust myself off and said: well then sir I suppose you’ll be more careful next time.

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  5. Hilarious as usual despite your description of your fears. For the escalator I’d suggest the laceless shoes as well. They do some pretty nice ones now with a bit of elastic in the front instead of laces and even the scratch version. Even some very nice brands do that.
    I used to be claustrophobic to the degree that I could never take an elevator. After the umpteenth time I had to go up and down a very large number of stairs I decided to work on that successfully. Same with my fear of heights. I think we should all work on our fears slowly to go beyond them and then learn how not to worry at all. Worry is at the root of all fears so when you worry less, you tend to have less fears that come up. One very effective technique not to worry is to imagine yourself in a place that you really liked a lot (whether real or from a dream) the minute you start worrying and then focus only on the thought of you in that place.
    There is a beautiful ad which I like a lot as a reference to women who need to overcome fears. You might like it as well even though it only references women. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJ2WbDahaaM

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  6. The loss of the man bun, and replacing it with something so radically different might be kinda fun …. especially if it leas to a “Sputnik blastoff.”

    I don’t have the man bun, but I wonder if a new ‘do would send Carlos into orbit!

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  7. One question, does the top hair cut match the other ???? Great post always enjoy reading your blog. I like short hair but not the short short sides and the mop of hair on the top, to me it looks too gay. That’s just how I see it. Now when is the next mission control orbit? Ivan.

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  8. I’m new here, but should you ever be accused of murder, falsely or otherwise, I’d be happy to crank out an alibi. I used to be a federal employee, I have no trouble lying to authority figures at all.

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  9. We seem to take turns who is going to be fretful about something; we seldom are fearful or sanguine at the same time.

    Emerson says “You should always to the thing you are afraid of”

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  10. Ah escalators. I use them on public transit on the MBTA aka Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority. in both South Station and North Quincy. I do on average a few hundred stairs a day. And escalators you take at a run. Seriously. My calf muscles love me for that.

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