It was one of my favorite programs, and ratings suggest that it was the favorite of millions of viewers.

Everyone wants to belong. Everyone wants to be “Norm.”

In short, I guess I’m saying it’s good to be a “regular.”

Already a bit compulsive, I tend to pick up habits easily.

My newest — and greatest — habit is Fuzzy’s Taco Shop at 2102 W. Broadway, Lubbock, TX.

The beginning

I cannot tell you exactly when I first heard of Fuzzy’s. But I can tell you from whom. Texas Tech doctoral student and Fort Worth (kind of) transplant Curtis Matthews began raving about Fort Worth.

He had been a regular at one of the Fort Worth Fuzzy’s, and he had heard one was coming to Lubbock. Having grown up in San Diego, Curtis extolled their fish tacos.

Having eaten fish tacos only once in my life — a sampler plate in San Diego — I was not a fan. But we were anxious to try the new place.

“Welcome to your new addiction”

As we sat there the first time, I thought it was a bit presumptuous to emblazon this on the door.

Little did I know.

Several weeks later, it is my favorite restaurant. I have to resist eating there every day.

And I am addicted to the tempura fish tacos.

“How’s it going, Blue?”

At approximately the same time I became addicted to Fuzzy’s, I dyed my hair blue.

It’s easy to remember blue Sam — even more than regular loud, animated Sam.

And they have remembered.

As soon as my favorite employee sees me, she greets me enthusiastically with some unique greeting and the word “blue.”

I keep meaning to ask her name. My receipts say only “Day cashier.”

I’ve developed a bit of a camaraderie with several other people who work there.

They’re all very cool and especially friendly.

Father’s Day

On Facebook, I said “All I want for Father’s Day is Fuzzy’s Tacos for lunch.”

My wife and four daughters were wonderful enough to oblige. They’re fans, now, too. The nachos on the kids’ menu may be the best value in Lubbock. My wife liked the grilled shrimp tacos.

There’s usually a line to order at Fuzzy’s at peak meal time. And I ususally end up talking to my dining partners about Fuzzy’s while standing in line.

Apparently I talk with authority because strangers often ask me whether I’ve eaten there before. When I say that I sometimes eat there three times a week, I get lots of questions.

Today was no different. I’m happy to share my knowledge about Fuzzy’s. I’m an enthusiast. At lunch I explained the taco delights to two nice women.

Cheers

When it was my turn to order, Day Cashier said, “How’s it going, Blue?”

One of the two women turned and said, “They really do know you here.”

“Of course we do,” said the gentleman working the other register (I think he’s a manager). “He even came here for Father’s Day.”

And that’s what it’s like to be a regular. That’s what makes amazing customer service.

That’s why I go to Fuzzy’s more often than even my love for the food would allow. I don’t want to lose my “regular” status.

I teach advertising for a living. I know a lot about how to get your attention. But I know that a good product and amazing customer service is the best way to keep your attention.

It’s difficult to establish brand loyalty and easy to blow it. Fuzzy’s has earned mine, and I never walk out of there dissatisfied. The experience always excels.

It’s such a simple concept, really. One with which so many businesses struggle.

Sure, they get my $7.50 or so per lunch. But I have told dozens of people aobut Fuzzy’s. There might as well be a dedicated College of Mass Communications table there. We’re all hooked.

It’s that good.

And the food is that good. But knowing that there are at least four people who work there, will recognize me, and will banter with me, that keeps me going, and I never go alone.

It’s simply good business.

What to order

I admit that I stick to patterns.

Under Mexican dinners is the “Taco Plate,” which comes with two sides and any two tacos for $5.99.

They are all good. And you can mix up your tacos, but I rarely do.

Two tempura fish tacos on soft (corn) tortillas, hold the tomatos. Refried beans and the Mix-Mex fried rice.

Sooooooo good.

I just left there three hours ago, and I wish that I could go back!

If you live in Lubbock, Fort Worth, Denton, or Arlington, you really must check it out!

The reasons for this were both many and few, and I have written about them here.

A week later, I’ve just come back from lunch at Fuzzy’s Taco Shop, which as their door proclaims is my “new addiction.”

They know me there now.

“Hey, Blue!” the cashier exclaimed as I reached the front of the line.

“Your hair still looks awesome,” came from the kitchen.

All of this follows my 10 minute conversation with strangers while waiting in line. You may have guessed that the topic was blue hair.

This mother had just let her son get a mohawk, and he had used some temporary colors in the hair.

This blue is less temporary, however, it is fading around the edges.

Although the color is fading, the pace at which I’m meeting new people is not.

Old School

On Saturday night, we were at Murphy’s Pub, my favorite watering hole in Lubbock, celebrating the tavern’s third anniversary.

We had a great waiter, although his name now escapes me because I’m bad at names.

During a visit to the restroom, he had apparently queried my friends about my ability to take a joke. They said that I do, indeed, have a good sense of humor.

“You’re my boy, Blue!” I hear from across the bar as our new friend pays homage to the movie Old School.

What a Week

I’ve been called into classes as I walked down the hallway.

I’ve induced double takes and triple takes.

And I’ve had a good friend say he would have dyed his hair along with mine had I asked.

If there’s a teen-ager working in a business that I visit, chances are they’ll come talk to me about the hair.

“I can’t believe you have blue hair,” my wife said as I left for work today.

The Sociology of Blue

The funny thing is that I go to great lengths to avoid socially awkward situations.

But this has been a great learning adventure.

When I took Sociology 101 more than a decade ago, one of the assignments was to violate some social norm (but not law) and then chronicle your experiences.

No other college assignment — including my doctoral qualifying exams and dissertation — ever caused me so much anxiety.

I resist authority. I hate rules. But norms restrain me like iron chains.

And bright blue hair violates almost every norm. So to that extent, this has been like ethnography. I’ve learned by diving in and watching.

The Moral of the Story

And perhaps the single most valuable lesson is that there are a lot of people in the world who feel shackled by the rules of society. And they resent it.

“I wish I had the nerve to do that,” is probably the single most frequent comment that I’ve heard.

And that makes me a little sad.

You live once. Do it your way.

If you dye your hair blue, or red, or green … or if you get a mohawk or an inverse mohawk, people will stare. Some uncomfortably so.

But you’ll learn something about yourself, your society, and as I wrote last week, your friends.

And my friends and family continue to have been amazing.

And that makes me anything but blue.

Exactly two months to the day since my last post, I died my hair blue. Actually, I went to the Bijou salon in Lubbock, and the stylist did an awesome job there.

It’s an interesting thing when you dye your hair blue.

It’s shocking. Especially in Lubbock. Shocking. I’ve been amazed at the number of people who simply cannot speak.

Literally. They can’t talk. They stand there with their mouths open. Literally.

Everyone stares.

I of course figured that there would be a lot of that. But in conservative Lubbock, there is a lot of that.

Walking down the street yesterday, Brandon (pictured above left) asked:

“Why is that guy staring … oh wait … it’s your hair.”

In West Texas, there is a Mexican food chain named Rosa’s Cafe. Yesterday was Taco Tuesday, and there is always a packed house on Taco Tuesday. So I went through the drive through.

The young woman wanted to tell me the total, $14.44, but she couldn’t speak.

Finally she spoke, I paid, and another young woman came running to the window, stuck her head half through it and said, “I LOVE your blue hair.”

Then despite the rush, pretty much the whole Rosa’s crew came to the window to check out my hair.

“This wouldn’t happen in Austin,” I thought.

But my friends — the true ones — have been amazing.

That’s how it has been for a day: awkward stares and lots of support.

Why I Did It

I have nothing really profound to offer here. I wanted to do it.

And I usually do what I want.

In approximately 1996, one of my college friends, Dandee, died his hair blue.

I was busy running the student newspaper, and I didn’t feel as if I could get away with anything like that.

At no point was it seriously considered. It wasn’t in the menu of options. I guess that’s the point.

It wasn’t even an option.

I didn’t think “too bad I cannot do that.” I just never came up.

So I ran the newspaper for two years, graduated, got real jobs, went to grad school, and started a faculty career.

And at no point during that span was it time to do something crazy.

Until it was.

I’m not teaching this summer. I’m advising two theses, one dissertation, a handful of independent studies, and trying to get some stuff published.

But I’m not officially responsible for more than two more months.

So I made a few jokes about blue hair.

And I probably never would have done it.

But a handful of people said, “You’d never really do that.”

And I’m not the kind of idiot who will eat worms or a box of thumb tacks if you dared me.

But I wanted to do this anyway, and this was a good time. And I like to call bluffs.

So June 9, 2009, was the day that I had my hair dyed blue. It was bleached almost white and then dyed.

And I like it. Yesterday I kinda liked it. Today I really like it.

Not because it makes me look better. Because, subjectively, I am quite sure that it does not.

But I wanted to do it — I knew it would lead to a great deal of taunting from my friends (and poor wife) — and I did it anyway.

And you learn a lot about the people in your life when you do something like dye your hair really blue. You find out who is really behind you.

And in large part, my friends are even better friends than I thought. And I knew I had some pretty amazing friends.

They’ve been amazingly supportive. Far more than I imagined.

Corny as it may be, that has warmed my heart. It made project blue worth it.

Sure, some of them may not want to have lunch with me. Because people will stare. But they have been supportive. Even though I am sure most of them secretly think it was a terrible idea.

And for that they have my profound gratitude.

Oh, and later in the day, my graduate student and friend, Brandon, got an indiustrial piercing in his ear (see picture). And he has my support.

That’s what friends do.