I’m aware some stare at my hair.
In fact, to be fair, some really despair of my hair.
But I don’t care, because they’re not aware.
Nor are they debonair, they’re just crumb bums who can’t understand that I haven’t been able to get a hair cut in a very long time. Oops, sorry about that Mr. Carlin. Yes, some of you probably realized that was George Carlin’s famous Hair Piece, and my ending was not very good at all. But you have to admit, for a lot of people, their hair defines them. Sure, it’s shallow but humans love to be shallow. Shallowness is a trillion-dollar industry. It’s just one of the things which keep me knowing that everyone’s an idiot in their own way.
Don’t be offended. It’s just one of many simple truths that has kept me going these many years. You don’t believe me? Just look around. Stand on any street corner and people watch for five minutes and my point will be proven. There’s even a better part of all this which, if taken seriously, could end every conflict in the world. There are no exceptions which means you can’t deny it about yourself, and once you admit it, life gets so much easier. Just tell people, “Expect nothing from me. I am an idiot,” and no one will ask anything from you ever again. Your life and everyone else’s will be sweeter. Sadly no one does this. Every one insists on the idiotic statement; They are the exemption that proves the rule.
This leads to so much heartache I can hardly stand it. Large tears are flowing as I write this and I just can’t take it anymore. Does anyone have a tissue? Sniff, Sniff Okay I feel better. I’d better get back to the point before I lose it again. Thank you for your patience.
What I wanted to talk about before I was distracted is hair, and how it affects us both positively and negatively. Boy doesn’t that statement make it sound like this is going to be one impressive post. I can’t wait to see how it turns out. La la la, Hmmmm Hmmmm Hmmm. Oh, hang on a second, I really can’t wait. I have to hunker down and do the writing. So, enough waiting and let’s get on with it.
The reason I am always critical about hair is probably because I don’t have any. There’s a bit circling my head like a pair of ear muffs, but I no longer have the full locks I once did. The thing about my hair is I can count the lost strands with events concerning my children. Oh, what strange powers be, which cause parents to lose their hair as their children are growing it longer.
It’s true. When my first son was born, I had a full head of curly locks. By the time his sister popped out, there were two long triangles of flesh pointing to the back of my head. Fast forward fourteen years and all I have on top is a few lonely strands and an arc from ear to ear. In the meantime, my daughter’s tresses run all the way down her back, and my sons have gorgeous curls hanging down toward their shoulders. I don’t which is worse; my anger at my own loss, or the jealousy of what they have. Once again, my life is so confusing.
The last straw came from somewhere unrelated to both. At the last family picnic, my young nephew asked me why I had no hair on the top of my head. My younger brother jumped in way to quickly with an answer. “See how there is hair coming out of Uncle Ohh!’s ears, chin and nose?” The kid nodded, “He has no hair on his head because he sprung leaks in those places. The hair just doesn’t make it up to the top of his head anymore, because of those leaks.” Well thank you for that non-scientific explanation. I just hope the kid mentions this to his teacher. I’d love to see my brother explain that one to a conservative principal on parent night. But I digress.
Mr. Carlin also mentions in his little poem that, “My wife bought some hair at a fair, to use as a spare. Did I care? Au contraire. Spare hair is fair.” Interesting words. Very few women I know have spare hair. However, I know a whole bunch of guys who regularly use spare hair. Of course, I’m talking about toupees. The thing is that so many guys don’t understand how. Women know how. They go to salons and have hair colored and styled. My friends just don’t have that kind of time. They purchase a toupee and think that’s it. On day one it looks great. The thing is that the hair piece does not adapt to nature. The man’s hair does. It gets grayer and longer and thinner. After about a year the man’s hair looks nothing like the toupee. But he wears it anyway, even though it looks like a dead animal sitting on top of his head.
Actually, that would be a lot better. Instead of buying the fur rug, put a real animal on your head. I mean there’s road kill everywhere. Pick up some as you’re driving by. It’s a lot cheaper than going to one of those clinics. Plus, you could have two or three for different occasions. Can’t you just see the fun office conversations;
Bob says, “Yea, I’m wearing an opossum today, but it’s just not the right fit for me. Tomorrow, I think I’ll go back to the racoon.”
This might prompt one of the ladies to respond, “That is a nice look for you. However, nothing will ever beat the squirrel you had on last Thursday.”
If this does become a thing, I can see bad-asses in bars wearing alligators, and porcupines. Aussies would go local and use wallabies and wombats. Of course, some nut would ruin it all for everybody thinking its cool to put a deer skin over his head and stumble out a window because it covers his eyes. Lawsuits would ensue, and the government would require a warning label be placed on all nature’s creatures; “Caution the Surgeon General Has Determined That Wearing Animals Larger Than Yourself May Be Hazardous to Your Health” I’d like to see who gets the job of running around the forest labeling little animals.
Then it would be only a matter of time until the environmentalists get involved and insist, we all wear plush animals instead. Can’t you just see a lady in a bar saying, “Hey Marge, just look at the guy over there with Mickey Mouse on his head. Wow, what a body.
Yes, Mr. George Carlin wrote a fine poem about his hair getting longer but never mentioned it again when his started to fall out like the rest of us. Then again, he never put a dead animal on his either. So, it all works out.
Now that I’ve shared this affair of the hair, I think I repair to my lair and Get some sleep.
Again, I’m not as good as he was.
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