Yup, you’re going to see an ACTUAL picture of my head. Will it reveal my identity? Probably not. Plus, putting a personal touch on these things makes the story better for everyone.
Being called out by your mother, for LOSING YOUR FUCKING HAIR is a devastating move. Absolutely outrageous call by her. But if you know my Mother, which you most certainly don’t, then you’d realize this is pretty much a tame comment coming from her. You know, “she’s just looking out for me.”
Story goes that I was on her patio looking for a fox in her back yard. She’s mortified that this tiny, possibly up to 40 pound animal is going to claw its way into her home, which is locked up like Fort Knox, and molest her food supply and possibly murder her whilst deep in slumber.
As I’m searching for this creature, which I ended up scaring away instantly, she hits me with the, “Hey, your hair is thinning in the back right there. You really need to get that checked out. I mean, see a doctor or something and take some pills. You need to take care of that.”
Sure, with my middle of the road salary and earning ZIPPO from blogging, I’ll be sure to take care of that $5,000 hair transplant and order a bunch of pills and shit ASAP. Like I needed another nail in the coffin of the following topics that she’s brought up over the past three decades:
- Probably should get teeth whitened
- Should not be so skinny (or, when I was fat…see next line)
- Should not be so fat
- Doing the Keto diet is bad for you (trust her, she works in a hospital)
- Should see regular eye doctor. Need to make sure you can see. (No, I’m not kidding on that last one in the parenthesis)
- When are you going to get married? (I’m not married, have been with same woman for 4 years, both myself and my woman consider ourselves married)
- You need to get a new car (I have since obtained a new truck)
- You need to clean the gutters (She has ZERO trees in her yard)
- Please come get rid of your shit in my house (no, I have no room in my house)
So, here’s the grand reveal:
Welp, NO FUCKING SHIT. My Dad is completely bald. I’d love to say I believe the theory that if your Mother’s Father (my Grandfather) was bald or balding, then you’ll be bald. My Papa had hair. Guy was a beast. Jet black with a touch of white in the front till the day he died. ZERO baldness for that champion of life.
Or the myth that it skips a generation. Guess what? NOPE. There’s no science to it. Most men lose their luscious lettuce around age 27 or so, and become completely bald on the top by age 50. I 100% noticed it when I lived out of my house for the first time, compounding the issue of me moving away from my Mother in the first place. If you leave a “nest,” all parents do for the rest of your life is point out your shortcomings.
To top it all off, we have warehouse security cameras at work, and boom! There I am, every notification of movement on my phone, is my bald spot sticking out in all its glory when I’m down there. Sure, do I plan on this being addressed at some point? Yes. In the mean time, get ready for the swoop comb over and lots of hair spray on the weekends. Kicker: my boss is a Bic razor to the dome type guy. First time he noticed, he immediately pounced and said I should go full bald. I’m not there yet, as you can see.
BONUS: My barber (who comes to my office and cuts my hair) and I always brings it up, and every time you can hear the cringe-y type response of, “oh, yeah, um so, it’s, uh pretty thin there and uh yeah, no, you’ll be fine.”
No, I won’t be fine. George Costanza knows.