Estimate?

The Long-Suffering Mrs. Chance greeted me this morning by asking, "So...do you have any plans to get a hair cut anytime soon?"
I have been letting my hair grow out from the military buzz cut I'd maintained for several years. The shaved look worked okay. Then my face got fat. I already have a huge head. The fat face and short hair started to make me look deformed. I'd see pictures of my self and wonder if some smartass at the on hour place had used Photo Shop to paste a giant joke head on my torso.
Longer hair creates the optical illusion that I have a normal sized skull. Plus I still look old with all the white hair. Old and deranged. Since I've based my "stage look" on dumb "dad" clothes, this still fits. I see bikers, aging hippies and homeless guys with long hair and think, "Long hair when your 50 or over makes you look like Santa Claus."
The Long-Suffering Mrs. Chance does not think that my new shaggy look says "old and deranged," "aging rock star" or even "jolly St. Nick."
"You look like some kind of baby bird," she said.
Mrs. Chance makes no claims for being a creative writer, but that's a vivid image. I Googled baby bird pictures this morning. Most of the baby birds had big heads covered by down fuzz sticking out at funny angles. That is precisely how I looked this morning. So much for feeling rebellious.
When I was a teeanged rock and roller, I fought many battles with my dad over hair length. I came back from the barber shop one day and daid said, "What'd ja do? Get an estimate?" That's a pretty good line too. He swears he doesn't remember saying anything so witty, but he was always rapping out pithy advice. Like this, when I wouldn't shut up in the middle of some argument: "You're broadcasting when you need to be receiving."