Bald is Beautiful

If you have actually seen me in real life, you will never mistake me for Brad Pitt. And if you have never seen me in real life, again, you will never mistake me for Brad Pitt. A bowling ball, maybe; a yard light, perhaps. But never some macho, slick, cool dude.

In case you haven't yet connected the dots, one of the few claims to fame that I aim to name is the fact that I am quite bald. Follically-challenged, I believe, is the politically-correct way to phrase it. And for the record, I do know most the bald jokes:

1. Heaven will be full of bald people, because there will be no "parting" up there;

2. I once had very curly hair; or, better stated, I had the waves, now I just have the beaches;

3. I have been hired by so many photographers, I have lost count; they use my "chrome dome" to provide for the glare for background effect;

4. And, hair today, gone tomorrow.

Okay, I exaggerate. But there are a number of advantages with being bald, and they touch on all the essentials of life, namely, time, money, and energy.

In terms of time, I spend seconds a day "combing" my hair; fingers left, fingers right, and I am ready for the next party. Or meal. When I hear of the hours that certain people put into getting ready, I just shudder. (Or maybe it's just envy, I don't know.)

Relative to money, consider the expense of gel, hairspray, hairclips, combs, brushes, haircuts, and so on. I don't waste a loonie on any of that stuff. On a slightly different note, my wife cuts all the boys' in our home (there are seven of us; you do the math in terms of monthly savings).

Finally, we think of advantages of baldness in terms of energy. I can brush my teeth and comb my hair at the same time. Or is it comb my teeth and brush my hair? Whatever I do, I just use one hand for each event. I even tried to save energy by combing (or brushing) my hair as I got out of bed. I poked myself in the eye too many times, so I dropped that energy-saving nonsense.

"Bald" has a nice association with it. When I think of land with potential, I would speak of a bald prairie. You have heard of a bald-face liar, but have you ever heard of a bald-head liar? Even America's favourite eagle is bald. Someone may have bawled like a baby, but they certainly never "bald" like a baby – unless they couldn't spell. (They could be as bald as a baby but...or forget it.)

Baldness never goes in or out of style. The waves of the 60s have been replaced by the ponytails of the 70s, which, in turn, changed again in the 80s, 90s, and these oh-ohs. But baldness – plain, boring, unimaginative baldness – just stayed the course. If someone with an ego, but no hair to match it, wanted to impress someone else, they could solve the problem in a moment. It's spelled W-I-G.

I have to laugh at these guys who start their part just above their ear and pull their hair over the rest of their head. Who do they think they're fooling? I once knew a guy who parted his hair at the back and brought his hair forward. Everytime there was a change in the air, there was a change in the hair.

So, while there is no mistaking me for Brad Pitt, I still maintain that bald is beautiful. Just ask Telly Savalas, Yul Brenner, or Elmer Fudd.