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The Hairy Effect of Aging
Deceitful follicles are a way of life
Nothing beats a good head shave and a hot cup of coffee in the morning. They are my indulgences and are as traditional as good music, well-aged scotch, fine cigars, and a good steak.
A few decades ago, I shaved my head. I went au natural and became a chrome dome. Amazingly, the new look took a few years off my appearance.
It removed any indication that I was losing my hair and erased all notions of it turning gray.
I left my facial hair alone. Without any head hair, the silver-gray look of my goatee took on a very distinguished academic look, one that I was comfortable with.
I've had facial hair for over four decades. I remember starting a beard when I was discharged from the US Air Force in the 1970s.
One year, my dermatologist asked me to come to my appointment clean-shaven. He wanted an open view of my face for a precancer screening.
As I was asked, I shaved my beard, leaving no hair above my shoulders.
Although that was an appearance disaster, it met with the doctor’s approval.
But my wife laughed when I walked out of the bathroom with my new look. Her words still haunt me:
You look like a penis head.
It was the first time she ever used the word penis. I couldn't convince her that I looked like Dwayne Johnson, the Rock.
The kids cried because they didn't recognize me. And I received no love from my office colleagues or dogs that day.
As soon as my appointment ended, I started growing the goatee back.
Shaving my head saved me close to six hundred dollars a year. That was the amount I spent getting a trim so I didn't look like an aging rock and roll musician. Of course, every time I went to get my hair cut, I had my beard trimmed, a task I have since mastered.
My friends keep telling me I should color my goatee.
They tell me to turn it black or brown or streak it to break up the silver color.
Since my wife died, people think I need to get back on the social scene, date, party, and hang out at bars. Their theory…
