The old saying "you don't know what you've got till it's gone" is right on the mark when it comes to my hair. Throughout most of my life I was openly dismissive of the gift I had been given by the hair gods. I never believed the woman who cut my hair when she would run her fingers through my hair and say how amazing it was. (she also told me I had eyelashes any woman would kill for)
Rather than appreciate the follicle gift I had, I would get up out of the barber chair, pay my eight bucks plus tip and walk out the door while putting my hat on. Just like I would put a hat on every morning from the time I was 15 till I graduated from college and had to get a real job. In all the years I was dating and wooing I covered up, what in retrospect, was my best asset. Not only was I dismissive of my wonderful hair, which my girlfriends all loved, but I was resentful of it. It grew too damn fast and it was so dark and wavy that it was a pain to care for. So, I covered it up.
Then it happened. About 4 years ago, in my 29th year, I started to notice more an more scalp while combing my hair. So I started cutting my hair shorter and shorter in an effort to mitigate the impact of the loss. That worked well through year 30, 31 and 32 but in the last few months it has gotten out of hand. I get it buzzed on the #1.5 setting and it looks good when I walk out of the shop. But as the sides and back grow at a pace consistent with my early 20's the top was stubborn. So I would get a hair ring that made the top look that much worse and gave an overall sloppy presentation.
I knew what I had to do.
So, this morning, and with Inky's help, I shaved my head for the third time. This time it was out of necessity, unlike my two previous sheerings. In May of 1994, the night after the prom, I shaved my head at a friends house before we went out for the post party's. The next day I neglected to take a hat along to Great Adventure and I got quite a sunburn on my scalp, which was not fun. From that point until January of 1996 I only got one haircut and my locks were as long as they had ever been. So long, in fact, that I had to move up one hat size to accommodate all the extra black silken loveliness. So, one lazy Sunday I walked into the bathroom and cut it all off and then proceeded to shave it bare.
When I shaved it today it was partly out of a sense of capitulation but also a bit of a tribute to my beloved Cats. The 2009 champs of Aussie Rules are lead by by three chrome domes who all played a huge role in the win. While I have very little chance of looking like Gary, Paul or Tom it is my nod to them all the same. Sadly, I find that a trim build somehow helps a guy pull off being totally bald. I don't really have that going for me these days, but I did each of the last two times I was shorn. God, I miss those days: