4.15 a.m.

The room is only just not dark. Through the open window, the Hudson Valley sighs, a long drawn-out exhale that accompanies a single drift of rain. (Rain, entering its sixteenth straight day.)

Another long drawn-out exhale beside me, and my daughter Lydia stirs in her sleep. In the near-dark I can just see the long ripples of her hair against the lighter sheet. One breath of her Lydia mandarin-cinnamon smell drifts past me.

Somewhere not too far away, late-home revelers laugh and call out. The sound echoes through the neighborhood and is cut off as they remember that their neighbors sleep. A single car growls uphill.

I rise and go to the window, moving the lace curtains aside to let the warm-cool damp breeze into my face. Through the apple tree's ghostly branches, I know the Palisades can be seen during the day but it's dark and misty still.

4.29 a.m. The dawn chorus begins. One, two, three separate birds call out to their mates, and morning is officially underway: June 21, 2009.

My hair #1: The golden anniversary of the man with the golden hands

Admit it -- you have no idea what this entry will be about. Am I letting you into my inner kinkster? Unfortunately not.

Clyde told me this morning that he is celebrating his 50th year in the hair dressing profession this month. Last year he sold Chou Chou to Vera [Omigawd! My hair! What will happen to My Hair???] and decided to take it easy by working only three days a week as an employee.

In addition to being a genius -- and I don't use the term lightly -- with scissors and color, Clyde has had an ... interesting life. Some of his friends are famous, some are glamorous, all are smart and interesting. Clyde is not (his his words) "some asshole hair stylist." More than that, he's a good friend who lends me books (most recently, Francis Collins) and CDs (such as his old pal Stan Getz).

Are he and his intellectual wife Ervene going off into some retirement sunset? No, although their passports are waiting to for even more use, what Clyde is doing with his time these days is creating a new modern arts museum in the lower Hudson Valley. It's his story to tell, not mine, but they have a building and a scintillating board and you will be hearing more from them in surprising ways.

I will tell more about both Clyde and My Hair in the future. But you can listen to the man himself at Clyde's Corner. Clyde can still be reached at 914-478-HAIR. I know the number well.