I'm Going Bald...Sweet!

Before you feel misled, let me explain my title...and before I explain my title, let me me warn you that this is one of my completely shallow, vain, whiny posts about aging.  So, no, I'm not going bald (yet) but rejoicing or at least being happy is something that I feel every man should feel when they start losing their hair.  I'll tell you why...

In my opinion most men get better looking with age.  I find that completely unfair and quite frankly ridiculous as most of them don't even care that they are sliding into their silver years.  Even their "beer bellies" don't look bad considering they can still wear the same jeans, t-shirts or dress clothes for years and years.  So what if they have to go up a size?!  It still looks the damn same and it makes me green with envy.  Woman have to (yes, have to - and no, not just want to) keep up with styles and also adjust to their growing mid-sections, back-sections, arm...need I name all the body parts that grow, sag, dimple, and MOVE over the years for us?  And what really chaps my dimples...er, hide?  The names that men came up with for our changes.  "Hahahaha...did you see the bat wings on that lady?  She could take flight with a strong enough breeze to lift her cheese burger butt!"  I'm picturing some man laughing so hard he gets a cramp in his side...falling over in pain and praying that a winged-woman blows his way and still has the energy to dial 911 after galloping over to him.  Thank goodness her kankles can hold her I-can't-lose-weight-like-I-used-to body up long enough to still help him.  Oh poo, my daydream ended before I saw if she helped or not.  Whoa, sounds like I'll be having some sour grapes for lunch today instead of my beloved pizza rolls.

Anyway, barring the comb-over (please Lord, I hope that no one does that anymore), going bald isn't all that bad and I believe that if a man is headed in that direction he should be grateful that's really all he has to worry about (when it comes to looks...inside they are all kinds of messed up).  Most balding men just shave it off and go for the Mr. Clean look and it works!  I mean, that dude is hot (the mop he's holding might help)!!  In fact, if Mr. Clean and the Brawny man got into a throw-down I feel strongly that Mr. Clean would clean Brawny's clock.  I'm really sorry about that low-brow humor; what I meant to say is that the Brawny man would try to wipe the floor with Mr. clean but he can't hold water compared to...I'll stop now (I've lost a bit of respect for myself for that).  So, when going bald a man should say thank you to the looks fairy and thank his lucky stars that other than his inability of pushing back from the table when presented with a Cowboy ribeye, all that he's suffering from is the decision to use a number 1 or 2 guard on his razor!  Oh, and you know what else?  There's a saying for men who make the mistake of trying out the $5.00 haircut at some chain (sounds like Hooper Huts).  Wanna hear it?  I'm so glad you said "yes!"; the saying for a mistake haircut for any man past the 80's era is "Oh well, I'm only two weeks away from the perfect cut."  What the?!  That's a load of crapola right there!  Last time I heard "uh-oh" while getting my bangs cut it took two weeks for me to come out of a deep depression and another two to get over the desire to use those same sheers on the...well, let's just say I didn't want to cut out paper-doll streamers.

Let me ask you this - why is it that when a dude starts going gray he looks all debonair or distinguished even?  Unlike women, when the male species starts getting those few strands of grays it lays down and acts just like the rest of the protein-pack it joined, but when we get them they decide to stand up and shout "aw, hell naw!  Ain't no one gonna tell me how to act; I'm gonna shoot straight up and be my own hair!  I'm gonna crinkle weird and send word that I ain't into conforming!".  So my hair has a country twang - what of it?  I also picture my wiry grays getting a tattoo and drinking straight from a cheap bourbon bottle!  In my defense, I saw a freaky Stephen King movie years ago about a balding guy that got one wish and it was for hair.  See, in the movie, the character gets his wish but it won't stop growing and when he cuts it off the little hairs scream in pain and then get all kinds of pissed off.  So the drunk tattooed hair is a lot better than when I dreamed my hair was trying to strangle me in the middle of the night (probably due to the bang-whacking I suffered too).  How is it that I can't finish my novel to my own liking and a movie like Revenge of the Hair (or whatever it was called) can get produced?!  Of course Stacy Keach's career has reflected his poor choice of filmage to star in.  He still has a killer (killer...hahaha) head of hair though...so good on him.  I strayed again - not unlike my lovely new hair color.  I do consider myself fairly lucky in that I didn't start going gray until this year and I've heard from many girlfriends that they started early in their 30's.  At any age for females it's just shocking and upsetting.  Unlike the migration of the chest, the hair is very noticeable in public if not covered quickly like a dark family secret.  But what color to get?  Do I do a full color?  Do I do highlights or maybe lowlights?  And what in tarnation is a lowlight (I do know that it is not unscrewing every other light bulb in the bathroom like I thought)?  Do I pluck the hairs out one by one and not worry about color?  My decision?  I'm going to find a salon that has silver and go all in!  At least that way it will look like I chose to be spontaneous and...um...wanting to match my jewelry?  Anyway, anyone that knows me also knows that I'm not scared of changing my look, I just don't want to be forced to.  Oh, and to just revisit the chest migration comparison I made earlier, what I meant was that it only takes a good bra to change the elevation of your endowment if you're willing to invest some good trial and error time.  Some of you aren't and that's a shame - or maybe genius!  Maybe you'd rather have someone not even notice your head due to staring at your "signs" now directing ones view southbound.

I guess I just don't find it very balanced that when a man ages it's called "growing into" their looks and when a woman ages it's just called aging.  I mean really?  What happened?  Did whoever was coming up with adjectives run out of creativity immediately after coming up with the male description?  Was some Greek philosopher exhausted from wracking his theologian mind trying to describe the superb way his silver hair made him seem even more deep than his sandy-blond 'do?  Clearly he wasn't so theological that he realized the value in beautifying the female description thus costing men truck-loads (cart-loads?) of gold and silver years later in our quest to slow the aging process.  Man, he do sucketh.  Furthermore, men may grow into to their looks but let us not forget that whatever you're looking at on him tends to keep growing AFTER they've grown into their looks.  There are the few men that are exceptions and will probably continue to look awesome all the way to their grave.  I've listed a few for example:  Sean Connery, Patrick Stewart, Mel Gibson (crazy though he is), my Daddy, and my Uncle Wayne (both of which should grow their beards back 'cause it made them handsome and cute all at the same time).  For real, my Uncle has always been that relative that you would describe to your friends as being the cute one! Speaking of beards...even that is an unfair advantage.  Double chin?  Beard! Sagging neck-skin (stupidly dubbed the chicken neck)?  Beard!  Weird mole under your bottom lip inexplicably shown up?  Beard (and a doctors appointment)!  Sadly, we too could make a noble attempt at growing facial hair to cover up these changes but then we'd be that weird aunt that people whisper about.  "Why doesn't she wax that off?  Someone needs to tell her!  Uh-uh, not me!!  I don't want her swinging that bat-wing at me...YOU do it!"  And so on.  Quick story about my secret (even to me) facial hair-growing attempt - you know that good feeling you have after walking out of the salon with freshly done toes and a quick eyebrow wax?  I used to have that too until that fateful day that the cute Vietnamese lady asked me "you wan you lippa wax too?".  What?  Why?  Give me that mirror!  I don't have...NOOOOOOOO!  "Yes please.  And my chin if you don't mind."  Good feeling gone!  I also feel badly for the woman that gave my orthopedic surgeon reason to make sure the attending nurse checked to see if she needed to shave my shoulders before putting me under the knife.  Dear Whoever You Are, I know a very nice salon that will take care of that for you and probably offer to dehair you elsewhere while she's at it.  Love, Barbara.

Anyway, thanks for letting me get all that off my chest...or where my chest should still be.  I would like to take a moment to thank the following for giving me the topic of yet another thing that I shouldn't be obsessed about:

To Time - thank you for robbing my skin of elasticity and the ability to bounce back.  That's just great that you have that ongoing deal with the skincare companies.

To Vanity - without you my bathroom counter tops would look much less crowded.

To Memory - thank you for letting me remember how I looked so many years ago.  I'm sure you'll make a grand exit at just the right time.  I'm counting on you to do something hilarious like leaving me as I'm getting dressed thus letting me wear my bra over my flowered polyester button down.  That joke never gets old does it?

Should I embrace aging as part of life and a treating my wrinkles as a badge of honor for every year I live?  Yes, yes I should.  I won't...but I should.  And you men out there...I got nothin' for a wrap up.  Oh!  Have fun buying yourselves a car to make yourselves feel younger.  In the long run it's a heck of a lot cheaper than what your wives do to keep your attention.

Love to all of you young and old.  I'm off to pray that I age like my mom!