Hair

Two weeks ago, I had my stylist cut off almost all of my hair. I have developed a bald spot on the crown of my head, and it was getting larger and larger, so I decided it was time to get rid of all of my hair. I asked him to shave my head, but he said he didn't have the equipment to do that. Instead, he promised to cut it very short and then let me shave off what was left. When he finished, I decided I liked the buzz cut look and kept it. I have maybe a quarter-inch growth, and that might just be the length I keep it.

By the way, while I was in the chair, my stylist began by cutting shorter and shorter on the sides, keeping the top longer. He cut it so that I had a short mohawk for a few minutes, but I thought I looked too much like Travis Bickle to keep it that way. Off the rest of it came. Since then, I've had a lot of people say how much they like the shorter 'do, and some who just say that it's a big change. I must admit that I've let go of a lot of vanity now that I have no hair to trouble with any longer. I enjoy this short haircut more than any I've had in decades.

I will admit that I have always had a complicated relationship with my hair. It has never been easy for me to maintain. When I was younger, I suffered the indignity of having a flat top like every other little boy around my age. We even had buzz cuts for a while then although none were quite as short as my hair is now. I remembered hating School Picture Day because I'd be stuck with photos of me with that flat top. It wasn't even long enough to need "product," as my stylist says. My grandmother tried to get me to use this stuff called Butch Hair Wax (I know, the irony of it all), but it never seemed to help. By the way, I think I destroyed all of those photos of my elementary years a while back. I just couldn't face looking at that kid's awful hair any longer.

My grandmother, bless her, tried all kinds of things to help me. She bought something called "hair trainer" from Avon or Luzier or Watkins or some door-to-door peddler. It was a waste of her money. My hair couldn't be trained. It just would hang limp whenever I tried to do anything with it. I couldn't even get the cowlick or two that I had to lie flat with the trainer stuff. My brother's hair would respond to almost everything she or my mother tried but not mine.

I was in junior high before my hair was allowed to grow out a bit. And, as soon as they allowed me (sometime in high school) to decide how long to grow my hair, I practically turned into a hippie. My bangs were so long that I would have to push the hair out of my eyes sometimes just to be able to read. I eventually cut it a bit shorter when I got to college, but I always seemed to prefer it to be a bit long. Oddly enough, my hair was still pretty long when I got my senior year photo taken at the university. The way our photos were lit made it look like I had a halo behind my head, leading to what my mother has always referred to as my "Jesus picture."

I have had almost everything done to my hair over the years except for coloring it. I had a "body wave" for a couple of years in high school. That's what they called "permanents" for men at the time, and a lot of guys did it at the time (even though most of us wound up looking like large poodles). It didn't really help me until the first time I got it cut. Then it would look good for a couple of weeks until the "wave" would grow out. I have also had it cut with almost everything, including a straight razor. If you want to know pain, have someone use a straight razor to slice off your hair. I have had it short and long. I once got the same haircut that Arnold had in the Terminator movies. I never had a mullet, thankfully, but it has frequently been long enough to have one.

I've used mousse (remember that stuff?), gel, pomade, even hairspray for a while. I tended to favor Garnier Fructis Fiber Gum Putty in recent years because it was sticky enough to hold my hair in place but not so sticky that it looked like I had clumped a lot of product on my head. I've had dozens of stylists over the years before I found my current one. They've tried everything they could to help me, all to no avail. One of them did reveal to me that I had hair the same texture of the hair of most Native Americans. I do have some Chickasaw heritage in there somewhere, I guess, but I didn't know it would manifest itself in my hair. (His first job after getting his cosmetology license was cutting hair on a reservation. That's how he knew.)

In recent years, it's gotten gradually shorter as my stylist has tried to keep me from looking too much like a bald guy. I tried to keep what hair I had for as long as possible, but nothing seemed to help. No ointments or pills kept the bald spot from getting larger, and there are side effects to the pills that a man should never want to have happen to him. I never wanted to do a comb-over because they look so silly and obvious, and I think getting hair plugs is an extreme sign of vanity even though I know some people who have had the procedure done. I also know some guys who just comb their hair straight back to cover the spot, but that too seems like an act of desperation. So a buzz cut it is.

I will admit to missing my longer hair. I had a good thick pelt there for a long time. I should have appreciated it more than I did, I suppose, despite all of the grief it gave me over the years. However, you can't imagine how much easier the maintenance is. I've shaved (no pun intended) at least half an hour out of my morning ritual. No more fussing with my hair. I just towel it off, and I'm ready to go. Maybe I should have gotten this buzz cut years ago. Think of all of the agony I might have avoided if I had.