1 post tagged “witch doctor”

You are bald! (Photo: Bálint Fejér)

Joel, are you going bald? Duncan MacInnis

There are a few words that a guy shudders at, one of those will always be baldness. The losing ones head of hair. I know it was always going to be inevitable with me, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. One only need look around at our society and the value placed on the "yeah, yeah" factor. We see cricket stars (and the tragics that buys everything they're selling) having various hair replacement therapies undertaken with their signature on the line for a few bob (mind you I'm not too sure how much independent science has been undertaken to back up their techniques) - be it the laser, the implants, the random hair tonics or the local witch doctor sacrificing a guinea pig.

I knew from a relatively young age that my hair would not be a life partner. It was always going to file for divorce citing "issues" and run away with a better offer. It's not my fault. It's my genes. The common theory of baldness is that you get it from your maternal grandfather. If he's got flowing locks there'd be a high probability you could stand in for Fabio. If however he's one of the growing band of chrome domes you're in trouble. My mother informed me when I was in my early teens that her father was bald by the time he hit his early twenties. Not just balding but bald like a vulture - no hair whatsoever. From that day forth my goal was to beat my grandfather in terms of holding onto my head of hair. The "lucky" thing for me is that not only did my grandfather suffer from baldness, my father doesn't hold what one would call a full head of hair either. From the fountain of knowledge known as Wikipedia:

...research has also shown that a person with a balding father also has a significantly greater chance of experiencing hair loss...

What makes things a particular issue for me is that I have thin hair to begin with - it's always been blond and very thin, so its really only a matter of time till the whole lot takes a ticket to freedom.

The Plunge

Before and After (Photos: Me @ flickr ;))

There had been taunts and bets for me to get the hair clipped for some time (mainly from the Wombat post his shave in 2004, but also from Mike and Shehadie) until January this year when I took the plunge and shaved my head. It was the first time in over a decade that the clippers attacked my entire head, though being the wimp I am I only went a number four. The last time was way back in year eight. The worry I always had was whether it would look ok - I still think my ears stick out too much. I also have no desire to look like a member of any white supremacist movements. Perhaps the beard-shaved head combo can ward that off a little.

Another concern that has become more prevalent, particularly after a trip on the James Craig a few years back, is the problem of sunburn on my scalp. I'm really not wanting to have skin cancer at any stage in life, so if I can prevent the burn happening much I'll be happy. As a result I think I'll need to have a permanent attachment of a hat with me at all times (maybe time to get a grandpa driving ha, or even a White Panama hat ala Brian Burke).

A White Panama Hat - possibly that of Brian Burke (Photo: flickmor)

The Aftermath

Since I first shaved the head I've gone closer - I now have a number 2 (6mm) trim each fortnight and a twice weekly beard trim (3mm). Coming into winter I really understand how much heat loss can go out of the head, so I have a tea cosy pretty close by for the cold days and nights. I miss some things about the hair, but overall the experience has been an interesting on. I've been tempted to maintain a "baldness log" to see the rate at which hair is being thrown overboard, but I think that'd be way too much effort (and I can imagine a permanent marker attack next time I crash at someone's place, not to mention the amount of crap I'd endure from my mates). Instead I'll just let the few photos that are taken of me each year (after all, I tend to hide behind the lens so not to break it) tell the story. Who knows, maybe by thirty my grandfathers gift will have finally fully reached me.