With apologies to “Dumb and Dumber”

MODERN DAD | By Jon Show

March 10. I’m bald.

Perhaps you noticed. Perhaps you haven’t. Either way, I’m bald.

I’ve been bald most of my adult life. I’ve been bald so long that the last time I had a full head of hair I was more concerned about Y2K than I was about losing my hair.

I don’t mind being bald, in fact I much prefer it. Unless I’m standing around with a group of other bald guys because we tend to look like a bunch of thumbs.

Being bald has many benefits, but perhaps my favorite is being able to respond, “No hair, don’t care” when I’m presented with a situation or a question for which I have no answer.

It’s very liberating and confuses people to no end. “No hair, don’t care,” and I leave the room.

Shock & Denial

My hair probably started to fall out in my early 20s but I didn’t really notice until I was in a hotel room at the age of 24.

I got a glimpse of the back of my head in one of those old angled hotel bathroom mirrors and I immediately spiraled.

See, you can be 24. You can be bald. You can be single. You can’t be all three at the same time and ever hope to attract the eye of a woman.

I spent the ensuing few weeks feeling out my options.

Rogaine? I had a friend in college who used it and it didn’t work at all. Hair loss pills? Same results.

One night I saw a commercial for hair replacement and sent off for the brochure, which listed the average cost of said procedure. Let me tell you, there ain’t no amount of hair in this world that is worth that much money.

I resolved to live out my days as they lay in front of me, womanless and growing more and more hairless by the day.

Bargaining

As it turns out it wasn’t that big of a deal. Shortly after that night in the hotel I met the as-yet-to-be-named Mother of Dragons, who remains more concerned about my tone with the children than my lack of hair follicles.

After we got married I started a yearlong process of whittling down my withering mane with clippers, beginning with the longest guard and slowly working my way down to the shortest.

I awoke one morning and realized there was no hope of commutation. I was sentenced to life without hair.

I broke out a brand new razor blade, some thick shaving cream, cracked opened the medicine cabinet mirror so I could get a full view of my head, and shaved it clean. It took 30 minutes and I gashed my scalp three times.

I now shave my head in the shower using soap, no mirror and whatever razor happens to be in there. It takes 45 seconds.

Reflection

I don’t think I ever really had good hair so losing it wasn’t as big a deal as it is for some people.

Almost every time I went to the barbershop as a kid I’d flip through the style books in the hope of finding a new haircut, most of the time sticking with the one I already had

These were my hairstyles, in order, from childhood to adulthood.

Jim Carrey Dumb and Dumber. Joe Dirt. Ivan Drago. Dawson’s Creek. Kurt Cobain MTV Unplugged. George Clooney ER.

My hair lived out its final years in a style that can best be described as blandly indescribable. Like if Clooney stayed for all 15 seasons of ER, his hair succumbing to genetics and the unrequited love of Julianna Margulies.

Confusion

Hair care products were also never really my thing.

I only owned two hair brushes when I had hair. I lost my first one during college and wasn’t interested in spending money on a new one so for the rest of the year I combed my hair with a fork from the dining hall.

I liked the 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioners for reasons I don’t recall. Do they still make Pert Plus? Big Pert Plus guy.

I’ve been bald for so long that I don’t even possess the base knowledge to have a conversation about hair care products.

Shampoo is defined as liquid soap for washing the hair, but The Mother of Dragons sprays something in her hair called dry shampoo, but only when she doesn’t want to wash her hair. I don’t even understand how to ask a question to clarify this.

There’s something in my kids’ bathroom called texturizing spray. What does that even mean?

Acceptance

Being bald is just easier. All I need is a bar of soap. I don’t have to comb anything. I don’t need hair products. I don’t have to get haircuts.

The only annoying thing about being bald is having to shave your head twice a week. These days I’d take a pill to make the rest of my hair fall out before I’d take one to regrow it.

I’m occasionally asked if I like being bald and the answer is yes. Or maybe the more correct answer is I prefer being bald.

Sometimes I think it would be fun to have hair again for a short period of time – like a week or two – just to wear it around. Sidle up next to parents at practice and see what they say.

Would they ignore it? Compliment it? Scream in laughter? I’m honestly intrigued.

I’ve visited hair websites a couple times to try to find a wig I like but I can never decide on a style. Or even a color. It’s like being a kid again, flipping through the stylebooks in the barbershop. I can never decide on a new look so I end up sticking with the one I’ve got.

No hair, don’t care.

Jon Show lives in Robbins Park with his wife, who he calls “The Mother of Dragons.” Their 13-year-old son is “Future Man” and their 10-year-old daughter is “The Blonde Bomber.” Their dog is actually named Lightning.