As I was making my way up the hill the other day, I considered how much easier it is to get a shower in after my run. This is primarily due to the lack of time and effort it takes to deal with the hair on top of my head. No shampoo. No conditioner. No blow drying. Just soap, rinse and towel off. Why did I bother to hang on to my hair for so long?
When I think back to all the grief that my follicles gave me during my years as a self-conscious teen, and all the moments I spent fussing about getting what was left of my hair just right when I was in college, I wonder: Why didn't I shave my head back when I was sixteen and keep it that way? Maybe it was because like most adolescents, I couldn't imagine growing old and losing my hair. Or at least that's what I chose to believe, faced with my father's most pervasive forehead. No matter, it happened just the same, and all the care and product that I exhausted on my scalp just washed down the drain.
I became resigned to my fate about the same time that I was living with one of the all-time great heads of hair. I used to watch my roommate as he combed and sculpted his mane. It was an impressive sight to see. I can also remember finding hair on the bathroom door, blown there by thousands of watts of drying power. It was the periodic cleaning of this blast zone that began my resentment and eventual resignation to cleaning up other people's discarded hair.
These days I live in a world that reminds me regularly of my hairy past. Our bathtub and sink provide me with regular reminders of the thick, full tresses of my wife and son. Then there are the ever-present clumps of fur that could be used to clone an army of dogs to replace the one that sheds her weight each weed. I feel the advantage of my baldness is being undercut somewhat by the hair of others.
No matter. When I think of the money I have saved on styling gel over the past twenty years, I am comforted. Even if my skull gets chilly quicker than some of the other well-coiffed heads, I still know that it's raining before they do.