I Want My Mullet Back

I want my mullet back
My ol’ Camero, an’ my eight-track
Fuzzy dice hangin’ loose an’ proud
ZZ Top, they’re playin’ loud
A simple time, that’s what I miss
Your mini-skirt an’ your sweet kiss
Things are changin’ man, an’ that’s a fact
I want my mullet back. –Billy Ray Cyrus

I kept Bill company yesterday when he had to do one of life’s most onerous tasks – take his car in for emissions inspection. The task of getting one’s car inspected is second only to getting one’s drivers’ license renewed for sheer frustration and complete boredom. Plus, you get a headache from all of the emissions. The car needing to be inspected was his 2002 Ford Escape, the car we leave in AZ year round. Given its age and history, passing the emissions test isn’t a given.

Still, it passed. But I was more than amused when the man conducting the test came up to the window to collect Bill’s payment. The man, probably in his 30s, was sporting a full-out mullet, something I hadn’t seen in quite some time.

“1982 just called,” I wanted to say to him. “It wants its mullet back.”

I didn’t.

To reward ourselves both for passing emissions and not laughing at the man’s haircut, we ate lunch at one of my favorite hamburger joints  — Fuddrucker’s. Fudd’s third-pound hamburger is about my favorite of any burger made. Fuddrucker’s has no presence in Colorado, so I really love to eat there as often as I can without totally embarrassing myself while we’re in AZ. Quite appropriately for this post, Fuddrucker’s opened for business in 1979 in San Antonio as Freddie Fuddruckers.

As we waited for our food to arrive, I glanced over at the booth next to us. I kid you not, there was a young man with a full-out mullet.

“Sweet Lord above,” I thought to myself. “Please tell me that the mullet isn’t making a return. I don’t think I can survive that fashion trend again. It was bad enough the first time.”

I didn’t hate everything about the 80s. Court was born in 1980, and that was a very good thing. I liked the clothing fashions of that decade. Remember the jackets and sweaters with shoulder pads similar to what Von Miller wears today when he’s on the football field? And the faded bleached jeans that fit tight around your waist and had pleats. Man, I LOVED my 80s jeans. And what about sweatshirts with the torn collars ala Flashdance, and the legwarmers. Wow. I did love me some legwarmers.

And the music? Michael Jackson. Olivia Newton John. Hall and Oates. Lionel Ritchie. Good stuff, though I will admit to not listening to a lot of music in those days, as at least in the early part of the decade, I was changing diapers and ending my marriage. Busy, busy, busy.

But the hairstyles never have to come back into fashion as far as I’m concerned. Not the men’s styles. Not the women’s styles. Lord, the hairspray. And when you have hair as fine and straight as mine, well can you imagine how much hairspray it took to obtain this look…..


After spotting the second mullet in just a half hour yesterday, I asked Bill just when mullets were popular. “I don’t know for sure,” he said (having gotten the same haircut for the past 73 years save for a crewcut he wore in high school). “When was Billy Ray Cyrus popular?”

And so I found this photo (to the left), and couldn’t help but notice the similar style worn by my nephew Erik around that same time (or at least I hope it was at that same time)…..


I will keep you posted on mullet-sightings in the Valley of the Sun.

Random Thursday Thoughts

It’s the Bomb

Desperately looking for something to occupy my time the other afternoon as Bill worked outdoors, I got onto Netflix to see what was available. After much perusing, I ended up with (of all things) The Karate Kid. It is a great movie. It has 1980s-Hairstyles--5been a great movie all of the 750 times that I’ve watched it over the years since 1984. As with most Generation X-ers, Court became interested in karate because of that movie, and his dad and I even enrolled him in classes for a short period of time. But what struck me most from the movie was the hair and clothing. Wow. I remember it so well. I absolutely LOVED my stonewashed jeans that fit tightly above my waist, in fact, above my belly button. And my hair, as everyone else’s who was an adult in the 1980s, was big and blown and curled away from my face, ala Farrah Fawcett. Remember leg warmers, thanks to Flashdance? We wore them even though we weren’t even close to a dance floor. And oh, those shoulder pads. Believe it or not, to this very day, the clothes of the 1980s are my favorite style.

Flitting Around

I’ve noticed as of late that I have the attention span of a gnat. Actually, what I sternly tell myself is that I’m like a cat that gets distracted by a beam of sunlight coming into the window and showing dust mites in the air. I start doing something, get distracted and begin something else, get distracted again and before you know it, I have three or four things half finished. Here’s an example. I was unloading the dishwasher when I remembered that I wanted to get the grandkids’ Easter cards in the mail. So I began to address the cards. But I needed to look up postage for a heavier card. I moved to my computer and looked up postage. While at my computer, I decided to see how many hits I’d gotten on my blog. Then I started thinking about blog ideas and I started looking something up on Wikipedia, which, NEVER FAILS to suck me in. Before I knew it, I was looking up totally unrelated things. After a half hour or so, I saw the cards sitting on the table. I went to get the postage stamps, and nearly tripped over the dishwasher’s open door since I hadn’t finished that project. And so it goes. I blame age. And all the hairspray I had to use to keep my hair away from my face in the 1980s.

10% is 10%

Speaking of age, cashiers have started giving me the senior discount without asking if I’m eligible. At first I wasn’t sure how I felt about their presumption of my age (though admittedly, they’re accurate). But my cheapskatyness won out over my vanity, and I have decided I will take the 10 percent discount any day of the week.

Orange Fingers

You have your people with a sweet tooth. You have your people with a cheetossalt tooth. Bill is definitely in the former group. He absolutely craves and loves anything sweet. Particularly if chocolate is involved. Beckie’s brownies are his perfect food. My secret craving? Cheetos. In fact, back in Denver, I have taken to buying a bag and giving them to Bill to hide someplace so that I can have them available for lunch but not available for snacking in the afternoon. I’m not proud of this fact. After all, CHEETOS. They make my fingers orange. I love them.

Sock it to Me

As you know, Bill and I live alone. And in both of our houses, we have a laundry room with our own washer and dryer. It’s probably 20 steps from my dryer to my bedroom in our Denver house, and about 5 steps here in Arizona. And yet….AND YET…. I can’t tell you how common it is for me to lose a sock. It’s simply inexplicable. Where could they possibly go?

That’s all folks. Gotta go chase a sunbeam.