A photo taken by my dad at the Salt Lake Airport, Saturday Night.
Wow. In case you can't see it, this is a guy who has lost control of his comb over. After a long flight, the furry animal on the right side of his head revolted and our friend here surrendered. Me and my folks noticed this poor guy as we got off a flight from San Diego upon our return from a fantastic Mexican cruise courtesy of Paul and Darolynn. They're champs. After a long day of lay overs and delayed flights, I guess we needed a reason to laugh and this guy was nice enough to give it to us. Paul was quite stealth in his recon work, sneaking up behind this defiant, untamable quaff while we were waiting for our luggage. Our friend (victim) was none the wiser.
I feel kind of bad taking easy, anonymous shots of some guy I don't know for a cheap laugh. I'm sure he's a nice enough guy. Actually, I'm not sure of that. Why should I assume that he's a nice guy? For all I know he's a wife beating drunk that loves the Lakers. I prefer to think that he deserves my ridicule. That my assholeness is some sort of karmic justice for him being an abusive dick that shouts at children and leaves pubes on public toilet seats. Yeah, that's it. He's got it coming. So don't feel bad for joining in on the fun.
And this is not a wagging finger of scorn aimed at male pattern baldness either. It's quite the opposite, actually. Look, I have my share of genetic screw jobs working against me. Fortunately, bladness is not one of them. But there comes a time in all of our lives when we need to accept our reality. There is no reason to hide behind futile, transparent attempts to mask the obvious. Embrace it! There is a dignity to an unapologetic bald man with tightly trimmed sides. There is no dignity in a comb over. Notice how I didn't bother to say "bad" comb over. The phrase "bad comb over" is the definition of redundancy.
Growing up, one of my buddy's dads wore a toupe. For anonymity's sake let's call him Ron Bishh. It wasn't an obvious rug, it looked decent enough. But, when you commit to a lie like that, it takes over your whole life. Well, I went off to college and didn't see him for a few years. During that time he decided to come free and lose the bird's nest. One day I bumped into him and had a difficult time hiding my confusion.
"Hey Ron, how are ya?" (unvoluntarily studying his scalp)
"Doing great!" (awkwardly smiling as he awaited eye contact)
It was if I had run into someone I always knew was gay who had decided to come out of the closet, shave his chest, go shirtless with some pink leather pants and call me "honey" while eating a corn dog. I wouldn't need to say "So you're gay, huh?". It's obvious and it always was. Likewise, I didn't need to acknowledge Ron's baldness. Not because it was rude, but because it was completely unnecessary. But either way Ron had to go through that awkward moment with every single person he reaquanted himself with for a span of probably several years. It's just not worth it. And the thing is, he looked just fine as a bald guy.
So my message is simple. Make life easy on yourself and embrace your reality. There is no need to fight what you truly are. On that note I would like to announce that I'm gay.
Not really. I love boobs too much to be gay.
Seriously, I'm not gay.