Eyebrow Drama

I was going through a box of keepsakes when I came across a picture of my oldest, back in Jr. High school. It was a great photo if you could overlook the hacked up eyebrows. The worse thing about this particular picture is that it was his eighth grade yearbook photo. Yes, for all eyes to see.

I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about how the state of the eyebrows came to be. It was the era of Vanilla Ice, who had neat little shaved lines in his eyebrows. It was also pre-photo shop. At that time, Brandon had not come into his own and made a practice of following the latest craze as far as entertainers go. He was a guitar player, so he mostly followed the lead of musicians. From the hip hoppy Ice Ice Baby to Anthrax. And I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying it all. (To be honest, I loved every minute of it.)

I remembered coming home and Brandon was in his room. I called my greetings through his closed bedroom door and then went to the task of preparing dinner. He was at the age where privacy had to be honored.

Ryan, my youngest came skipping out of his room, carrying a couple of his little toy super heroes. He came to check out what I was making for dinner and to ask me what I thought of Brandon’s eyebrows.

“Eyebrows?” I asked. I’m sure my own were raised well above my head, like a cartoon character. What a random question. But then again was anything really random when it came to what came out of kid’s mouths?

I could tell by Ryan’s wide look that he was horrified at selling his big brother out. I knelt down and looked him in the face. His beautiful little face.

“What are you talking about?” I tried to sound calm, reassuring. I was dying to know. I knew if I sounded insistent he would close up like a clam.

“Um, um…” A shrug was all I got. OK, that’s ok. How bad could it be? It was probably a practical joke of some kind. I was blessed to have two very funny kids. Humor has always been embraced in our household.

“I guess I’ll find out what you are talking about at dinner.” I said as I stood up. Whatever was going on could certainly wait for a few minutes. I was about to ask Ryan to help me set the table, when he turned and ran full speed out of the kitchen and down the hall. I could hear him knocking on Brandon’s door. Ah, a confession and a warning no doubt. I guess one of the cool things about being a young mom was that you were on the same wavelength, more or less. I would let them have their moment.

After I set the table, I called the kids to dinner. I have to say, wavelength or not, I was not prepared for what I saw.

Brandon peeked around the kitchen wall. What was the deal with his eyebrows? Something was really out of place with his usually handsome face.

I walked up to him, not able to contain the scowl on my face. I stared at what was left of his eyebrows. The right one was missing about a third of it, near the outer eye. The left one had chunks missing throughout the entire brow.

“He’s Vanilla Ice!” Ryan piped in, breaking the dumbfounded silence.

“What?” Was I experiencing a generation gap moment?

“I wanted lines like Vanilla Ice Mom!” His face so earnest, with his Patrick Swayze hair and all.

I couldn’t control myself as I burst into laughter. It was laughter so intense that I had to run to the bathroom. If only he could have seen himself as I did at that moment. A moment I will surely never ever forget. Then I stopped. “Tomorrow is picture day!” Damn!!!

“Brandon!!” I cried as I ran back toward the kitchen. “Tomorrow is picture day!!” His expression matched mine. Bad timing to be sure.

“What am I going to do?” He was in a panic. Peer pressure was going to be bad enough, but can you imagine your face embedded in time looking like this?

I thought for a moment and then it came to me. He would have to use an eyebrow pencil. “You’ll have to use an eyebrow pencil Brandon.”

“What’s that?” His involuntary scowl looked ridiculous. There weren’t enough brows left to be taken seriously at all. I couldn’t keep from laughing at him.

“It’s makeup that women use on their eyebrows” I couldn’t show him because back then I didn’t to use one. “I will run down to the drugstore and grab one. Then I’ll show you how to use it.” I was winging it, but really, how hard could it be.

“Mom!! Makeup?” His face was full of anxiety.

“It’s better than what you’ve got going on now.” Did I really need to explain?

After purchasing the eyebrow pencil, I gave him a brief demonstration. I never dreamt that he wouldn’t use it.

“Brandon!!!” I was screeching when I opened the picture packet. I had multiple copies, large and small of a kid with hacked up eyebrows.

“Mom, I didn’t want to wear makeup.” He looked at me and then at the huge picture I held out for him to look at. “After everyone got done laughing at me I was done being embarrassed.” That was the only explanation I would get.

What was I going to do now? Not only were these pictures expensive, but this is what I sent out to all family and friends. I pondered, I pondered a lot.


My solution was brilliant, although it would require that I throw down more cash. I took the eyebrow pencil back from Brandon and got to work with my plan. I took each picture that was designated to someone and colored in the eyebrows by hand. Satisfied that this would work, I took inventory and then went shopping for picture frames, and the appropriate mailing envelopes. Yep, much more cash.

I admired my handy work. In the frames, you could barely tell I did any editing. Problem solved.

Later that year I went up to Oregon to visit my mom. It was summertime, which was an always triple digit on the thermometer. She had an air conditioner in the dining room, which took care of the kitchen and living room. But she closed off the rest of the house to conserve energy.

As I lay on the bed in the guest room, melting, I saw ‘Brandon Ice’s’ picture up on a bookshelf. Something looked wrong with it. I got up to investigate.

I looked more closely at the picture and noticed that the heat caused the eyebrow pencil to stick to the glass. And then to add to it, his picture had shifted slightly and he almost had two sets of eyebrows.

“What the….. No way!!” I said out loud as I snatched up the picture and ran to show Brandon.

Our laughter caused my mom to come investigate. Although she claimed not to have noticed, I didn’t believe it.

I could only wonder what all the other copies looked like by then.

Super Senior Moment

Rich and I decided to wait out the light rain at the Willows par three. As soon as it turned to a mere drizzle we would leave the warm truck and go play. The cool thing about golfing in such weather is almost no one else is on the course. You’re free to hit more than one ball, can hunt for buried balls, and just take your time. These luxuries cannot be had on a beautiful sunny day golfing in the Pacific Northwest.

However before the drizzle it got real interesting. A little grey hired man, driving a huge labamba of a car came driving through the parking lot ever so slowly. He stopped next to the putting green and just stared out onto the course. We weren’t sure what he was looking at, but it sure seemed to be important to him.

There was a little dip in the sidewalk which was intended for golf carts, but the man must have thought it was a driveway or something. He drove up onto the cart path and then as if he suddenly knew where he was going he sped up. He stayed on the cart path and disappeared around the bend between the first and second holes.

“What the hell?” Rich verbalized what I was thinking.

It was obvious that the old timer has mistaken the cart path for a road. A road that was supposed to take him to where is anybody’s guess. Was the little bridge he was probably just then approaching even big enough to hold up a heavy automobile? Hmm, it was ponderous.

“He thinks it a road!” I exclaimed.

About that time we saw him backing up along the path. He wasn’t doing too bad actually. Going in reverse on the narrow path full of curves must certainly be a challenge.

“I’ll bet he decided not to try the little bridge.” I said as we watched him negotiate the path.

“Wow. Oh no! What’s he doing?” Rich asked in a raised voice.

The car missed the sharp turn in front of the little club house and broke through a small area that was fenced off by a black and yellow chain. The bumper caught onto the chain and pulled up posts as the elderly driver began to turn the car around in an effort to get back to the parking lot.

We figured that the man must have realized that he wasn’t on a road. But that thought was put to rest when he made a super sharp right turn and drove down the sidewalk toward the main club house, dragging the black and yellow chain behind him, posts and all.

Why he didn’t just return to the parking lot is bewildering. And actually, except for the chain fiasco, he demonstrated some pretty good driving skills. He kept on driving on the sidewalk until we lost sight of him, behind some large weeping willow trees toward hole eighteen of the main course,.

By then the drizzle we were waiting for finally came so we got out and went out onto the course. As we hit off the first tee we heard sirens and wondered if they had anything to do with the old dazed and confused driver.