She got up as usual and showered and washed her hair and blow dried it and combed it into place and hit it with some hair spray. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and stepped back in amazement. Her hair looked really good! She checked out the back, the sides, the top.
``Good! I'm having a good hair day,'' she sang out loud. She made up a song in her head - ``I'm having a good hair day.''
She sang the song to the bus driver and the bus driver sang too, and the bird woman and the girl with the babies and the man going home from the night shift at a convenience store and an ICU RN and the whole bus roared ``I'm having a good hair day.''
When she got to work she sang the song to the receptionist who sang it to a client who sang it to the murderer he was defending in court that day.
The whole office took up the refrain and all was good cheer. Except Mr. Moeller.
Mr. Moeller had taken the red-eye back from New York. He'd slept with his head turned funny and even in business class you can't get really comfortable.
What was worse his fine - one could say presidential - head of hair was sticking up oddly on the left side of his head and he had no time to deal with it. He kept flattening it with his hand but it sprang back out of place exuberantly. Good hair day indeed!
Mr. Moeller had a meeting with the CEO in twenty minutes at the airport - that airport again.
In the cab he sang the good hair song to the driver whose own hair was safely concealed by a blue turban. The driver was a little confused but he sang along politely. Perhaps after all this business man had a newly fashionable hairstyle. Certainly it looked uncouth but this was America.
In the VIP lounge Mr. Moeller sang the good hair song to the CEO who was entirely bald. They both sang the song to the waiter who brought their coffee. He was a Colombian drug smuggler but he sang along anyway. He wondered if the words had a meaning he did not understand. His own hair was, of course, perfect.
It didn't take long for the Good Hair Song to die away. The woman who created it forgot it entirely. The words submerged without a trace in the great sea of communication that entwines the earth and drowns and strangles each of us.