Soviet Hair

It may be that an inordinate amount of space on this blog concerns the way that I look at any given moment. Nevertheless, the other day in the Arizona Territories, I was making some sort of comment about my hair.

N. said, "Your hair looks normal, but then you keep running your hands through it and it gets all Trotskied-out."

"What the devil do you mean?" I asked. She showed me this photo of young Leon Trotsky. I've got to say that this visage does look familiar to me.