deebeedee

I’ve had my head shaved on and off for the past ten years. Initially I did it for the convenience of not having to spend precious minutes on my hair every morning. Additionally, having a bald head was not exactly out-of-vogue. Until yesterday, I’ve had my hair grow out for the past year and a half. I chose to revert to a shaved head again, but this time around it is because of my losing battle with male pattern baldness. The coming cold winter chill be damned, I’ll never resort to any variation of the comb-over, even if minor and discrete.

So there I was yesterday, negotiating with Mr. Hairdresser whether to use a No. 1 attachment for my whole head. Mr. Hairdresser, fearing for the drastic change I was about to make, suggested that we use No. 1 for the sides and No. 3 for the top. I agreed. As he was putting the finishing touches on this oh-so-complicated cut, he asked something that gave me pause. He asked whether I wanted my eyebrows trimmed. Apparently my brows have grown to Fu-Manchu proportions and needed to be mowed down. I said fine and thought, “but I draw the line at having them plucked.”

I hope the day that Mr. Hairdresser tells me my ear hair needs a trimming is the day that scientists have figured out a way to transplant them onto my scalp.

In all seriousness, a passage quoted by our guest pastor this morning reminded me that our earthly bodies are merely temporal: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are acheiving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Come back, I mean. I sure hope not. But Ed Santos wants it back. His website RockDaMullet has garnered him an internet cult following. Although a big part of me wants his site shut down forever, a small part of me wants it to succeed. If the 80s fashion faux pas does come back, it will make reminiscing over my high school pictures a little more bearable. Besides the cat is out of the bag anyway.