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Losing Hair is not all bad
My hair started thinning several years ago much to my dismay. I fretted and fiddled in the mirror each morning trying all kinds of creative hairstyles, all of which made me look goofy. As the years slipped by and my hair fell out, I came to terms with the loss. Now it is only on cold days that I miss my hair.

During the shedding years, several of my friends came up with helpful suggestions. For instance, many of them took down the numbers on the infomercials that hawked a type of paint that you could spray on your head and cover those “thin spots”. Some suggested that I utilize the amazing comb-over technique. This involves letting the hair above your left ear grow to about a foot in length You must then comb it over the bald spot in a swirling fashion, and pray for windless days. I worked with guys that experimented with these techniques, but I often wondered to myself - why not buy a hat?

One friend was particularly distraught when he lost his hair. He went with the comb-over and spent countless hours in the morning combing and spraying his head with industrial strength hair spray to keep his hair in place. His head looked like a fuzzy decoupage object d’ art.

He couldn’t park close enough to the building. He would have parked in the lobby if he could have gotten a pass. Instead, each day he parked as close to the building as possible and made a mad dash to get inside before some force of nature undid his morning’s work.

He did this for years and then one day he came to work with a close-cropped haircut and he looked twenty years younger. I’m not sure if he got tired of smelling the poly vinyl chloride in the hairspray, or if he experienced some life changing event, but he came to terms with his self-image. He later told me he wished he had done it years before.

I never did warm up to the idea of spraying Dutch Boy paint on my head so I followed the advice of my friend and invested in an electric hair trimmer. I now keep the thin part cut close. It was a little bit of a shock at first, but nowadays I rarely miss my hair except when I run into someone I haven’t seen since high school. “What happened to your hair?” they exclaim. I fight the urge to tell them “I have a rare incurable disease.” I fanaticize that this will make them feel like a jerk for asking such an impertinent question, but I simply say, “It went south.”

There are some good things about not having hair. I save a fortune on shampoo and hair dryers. There are no hairbrushes in my bathroom. Another feature of having no hair is that I could be a local hit-man because no one recognizes me unless I’m with my wife Jilda. I can almost hear them say, "I'm not sure officer; I never saw him before. He was bald with a beard and looked like one of those guys from the Taliban or perhaps a fugitive from Kentucky."

Life changes most of us as we grow older. We put on a few pounds, we get some scars, or maybe plastic joints in our hips and knees. In the scheme of things, there are a lot worse things than losing your hair.


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