Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

It's been about four months since I've been shaving my head.

And I can honestly say I don't miss my hair at all.

The decision was one I thought about for a long time before taking the plunge. I knew several things about my hair:

• It was thinning at an alarming rate.
• It had grayed to the point of almost being white
• It made me look old.

The girls have heard this story ad nauseum (like most of my stories), but this episode had a lot to do with the realization that I needed to do something about my look.

While in a deli line, I had Kristin in my arms (she was a toddler, maybe two or three, so this was probably 10 years ago). The deli counter lady smiled at Kristin and asked me, "Would you like a sample of American cheese for your granddaughter?"

Thud.

Granddaughter.

That one stung.

But the mistake was understandable. What with the gray hair and its gradual exit from my scalp, I did look like someone old enough to have a grandchild.

It seems as if my hair has been in a transitional phase my entire life. As a kid, it was thin and blond, and I wore a bowl-cut ala Dennis the Menace.

As a teen, it darkened and thickened. A lot. Around the temples in the summers, it would get bushier and bushier until I couldn't stand it anymore and would beg the barber to thin it out.

In my 20s, I began going gray. Yes, 20s. 

By my 30s, it was salt-and-peppery, sort of like my Dad's. But he was in his 60s at that phase.

In my 40s, I had more gray than black. And just recently, the hairline began the backward crawl from my forehead back toward my ears.

I actually considered coloring it. More than once. But the fact that it was thinning at an alarming rate stopped me. There wasn't even enough to hold color, should I be interested in the bother and expense (and discomfort) of dye.

Not wanting the Friar Tuck look (hair only around my ears and the back of my scalp), I took matters into my own hands.

And shaved it off.

And really? I'm okay with it. 

There are advantages:

• I can step from the shower and be dry and ready to dress in seconds.
• I can drive with the windows down in the car and not emerge looking like a cast member of the Hair Bear Bunch.
• I'm more streamlined in the pool. Swimming underwater is really neat.
• I'm saving time and cash on haircuts, which, with tip, were stretching toward $30.
• I'm ready to go should Broadway issue the casting call for a revival of The King and I.

 The bald truth.