Samson

It's gone. It's all gone. Well...not all...but a great majority of it has gone. My once proud and beautiful mane of hair that I had amassed over the past 6 months...that slowly became part of who I am...is now lying on the floor of some hairdresser's salon...lonely, abandoned and...hairy.

Commitment. That's what it is all about. Commitment to Journey's End. It's set in a trench for God's sake...I can't very well have my hippy hair flying all over the place, now can I? No. So it has been shawn...a number 3 in places...short on top...back...my powers have dwindled...no more the ability to...um...run my fingers through my hair and to...get out of the shower and shake my head like the Old English Sheep Dog from the Dulux ad...you know the one...what's to become of me?

It's interesting because I use to have short hair all the time...and then I was converted to long hair and got used to it and, in turn, learned to love it. But going back to the ten-year-old-school-kid-school-photographs-haircut...it's a shock...to say the least. I shed a few tears, and the hairdresser kept asking me if I was alright...I wasn't but I said I was...be brave James, be brave I whispered to myself.

I can only hope that this sacrifice will somehow enrich my performance and the show in general...I'm sure it will.

I hope.

From this...to this. Of course, Albert Finney can pull off anything...he's Albert Finney for Jeff's sake.