I’ve hated hair ever since I was a kid going to Dom Parise’s Barber shop on the corner of Douglas Avenue in Racine, Wisconsin. It wasn’t that Dom wasn’t a nice guy, he was a chubby Italian, what’s not to like? It was like having Tommy Lasorda cut your hair. It was the idea of taking time from all the important activities of youth to sit and wait for a dumb haircut.
When I was in St. Paul, I would get my hair cut maybe three times a year and I would go to Cost Cutters. I’d always get a foreign woman who would ask me questions over the buzz of the razor about how I wanted my hair. You can only say “what?” so many times before you feel bad for not being able to understand her accent.
When I got married I finally just told my wife to start cutting my hair. She hates doing it. She says “Oops” a lot in an attempt to get me to go to a barber. Doesn’t work. I’ve always wanted to be bald. All these hair treatment commercials boggle my mind. People pay money to get hair. I pay money to get rid of it.
Obsessions with having hair have to do with feeling young, portraying a virile image. We celebrate energy and rambunctiousness. On top of that, men are now supposed to dye their hair. So now, even if you have hair, it’s not supposed to be gray. I’m getting gray hair. Lots of it I noticed last time my wife “oopsed” her way through it.
But baldness and grayness are signs of wisdom and experience. I celebrate my grayness and pray for baldness. “The glory of young men is their strength: and the beauty of old men is the gray head.” (Proverbs 20:29) Amen, even so baldness, come quickly.