To martyr yourself to caution
Is not going to help at all
Because there'll be no safety in numbers
When the Right One walks out of the door
M: Why do you shave your head?
Boof: Cuz I’m bald you idiot. I mean look at this (shows head). It’s insane!
T: yeah I’m growing bald a bit too.
Boof: huh? Whadduya mean? Lets see.
T somberly: Nah I don’t wanna take off my hat, but yeah, my hair’s thinning out on the top.
I can honestly say that I am over my baldness-slap-in-the-face that was given to me last year. Everyone--except my Mom…and that is due to blatant ignorance--knows and understands why I shave my head. It’s so I don’t look like senior citizen (which would probably be possible).
Tangent: When I had my eye surgery, the clinic gave me these “old guy” shades for the ride home. These are those exact shades that cover half your nose and all your eyebrows that old people wear all the time.
They’re awesome! I could grow whatever hair I have left, wear polyester pants, and don a hideously tight polo shirt and I would probably look 40 years older than my current age. I could--and it’s totally plausible--look like my parent’s parents if I really wanted to.
That’s fuckin funny but there seems to be something paradoxical about that whole situation.
Anyways, I firmly believe that baldness should have some societal benefits to help ease the initial stress. I think we should have baldness discounts and park in front of the handicapped. I think we should the right to be openly pissed off and not pay any consequence for such public tirades. Kinda like, “having my cake and eating it too because I’m fucking bald” type deal.
That wouldn’t be too bad. But no, I don’t really care too much anymore because I subscribe to the idea that “I am who I am and fuck you if you don’t like it” which does include baldness, feelings and ideas, and appearance.
Tangent II: You know what would be the absolute bizomb? Say I dress up like that old dude and head over to a restaurant where I will hang out with some buddies. Throughout the supper I’ll be loudly swearing and making insanely racial and prejudicial comments. I’ll then get up in front of a family of 15 and walk really slowly throughout the restaurant until I suddenly stop and slowly look at my watch. Then I could get away with driving like an old person! I’ll back out of my parking space without even looking and drive 15 miles under the speed limit.
Uh.. Anyways I guess my point is that it really sucks that something you can’t change causes so much stress and mental anguish. There’s nothing you can do and the sooner you can accept yourself, the sooner one will not care about their shortcomings.
I don’t know why I am so fixated on becoming an old guy. That’s fucked up isn’t it?