To Live and Have Hair

 I cut my hair last week, I think I messed up.

I cut my hair last week, I think I messed up.

I really need to start paying for haircuts again, I’m not sure I can take the pressure of cutting my own hair anymore.

I cut my hair a couple of days ago, I messed it up, so now my hair is shorter than I generally like it to be in winter. It might also be a little crooked, but who’s keeping score.

One has to think maybe this could have been avoided if I had just gone to a barber, like a human being.

The last time I went to a barber was probably 2009, almost a decade ago. My girlfriend at the time had gone to Ontario for Christmas to see her family; two days into the trip she dumped me via text message. It was pretty messed up.

That was also the last time I paid for a haircut. It was a real bad one. The guy had no idea what he was doing, and somehow I ended up with something similar to a mullet, which was really surprising considering my hair didn’t start out that long.

I don’t think the haircut was the cause of the horrible funk I went through for the next couple years, that would probably be the dissolution of a 3-year relationship. But I’ll tell you what; the haircut wasn’t helping things either.

I think a big part of the reason I started cutting my own hair is because I could no long trust anyone to cut it for me. Nobody is as invested in making me look good as I am. I think it’s the same reason I don’t like being photographed by others.

I turned 30 last November, which has been really stressful for me. One of the bright spots has been my hair.

I don’t have great hair, but I have hair.

I remember freaking out about hair loss when I was around 23, which I guess now that I think about it is around the same time I started cutting my hair. This is probably just a coincidence.

Back in my ACAD days I had a friend named Phil who was even more obsessed with his hair.

His hairline was completely shot though; he never had a chance or making it to 30 with hair.  He looked like a Chinese version of Gervinho. That last reference is for the aficionados. He told me he used to collect all the hairs that fell out when he was showering and count them, which is some real Silence of the Lambs stuff.

The last time I saw Phil was 2 years ago. He had shaven his head.

I don’t think I have the courage to do what he did, I’m holding on to my hair like grim death.

Throughout my 20s I had done all sorts of research into hair loss solutions and came to the conclusion that I don’t have enough money for it. I’m just going to have accept balding when it comes. Like, I don’t have a spare $4-15 thousand dollar for a hair transplant, and there’s a possibility it won’t take.

There’s always Rogaine, but they threaten impotence as a possible side effect, and I don’t really want to risk anything going wrong down there. I need my potency.

People always say if you want to know if you’re going to go bald look at your maternal grandfather. To this I say “poppycock!” I know that can’t be the case because I have four brothers, and there is no consistency in their hair.

Two of my brothers are balding, and started losing their hair in their 20’s. In fact my younger brother David is six years younger than me and has been riding the hair loss train since his early 20s.My other two brothers both have full heads of hair and they are well into their 40s, so maybe not all is lost.

My dad has the Manu Ginobili sunroof, for whatever that’s worth. I don’t know if balding was something that freaked him out as much as it scares me.

He was married already at 30, whereas I am as unattached as the hairs at the bottom of Phil’s bathtub.

My friend James, who has a lovely and full head of hair chimed in with some words of wisdom.

“Just be confident in what God gave you. Charm takes you far.”

He may be right, but I’m going to look for a new barber just in case.

 

Joe Menjivar still has hair, you can find him on Twitter