Some of the sexiest women I have ever seen on this planet have no hair at all. Maybe I’ve seen too many alien-android movies, but a good-looking bald woman is hard to beat. Growing up in a military family, short hair was definitely the norm for my older brother. I always kept my hair longer after about age 10. My hair used to stick straight up so my Mom had me doing everything to “cure” this condition. I wore Dippity-Do and wore a nylon stocking as a night cap for months as I recall. Once my hair lay down naturally, I just let it grow. The longest I ever had it was a shoulder-length shag ‘do I sported in the early seventies. I cut it for what else? A job. I kept it pretty short through my professional life and now that I am retired, I just kind of let it go. This is yet another sticking point with my soulmate Karen. She starts after reaching her own personal limit for my Wild Man of Borneo hairstyle. A single comment. “ Can I get you a hat?” Innocent. Innocuous. Subtle. What she really means is “your hair is a mess and you need something to cover it up.” Then it graduates to snippy comments like “What would you like for lunch? Bird’s Nest Soup?,” moves up to snide remarks like “Yes, Professor Irwin Corey,” and finally ends up with how she really feels: You foul usurper, get in the car so that I can get you to a barber to remove that ungodly Bushman’s nest on your head.” I have proposed a new haircut which has not apparently passed code because Karen bin Laden says “absolutely not” every time I bring it up. I want to have a Shaolin monk hairstyle where my head is totally bereft of hair save for one little quarter-sized ponytail growing down from the base of my skull. I would even be able to pull off the soul patch , but the Fu Manchu ‘stache won’t happen. I can’t grow facial hair. Never could. I can go for a month before Karen asks if I shaved. I am going to shave my head down again soon, but this time I am going full-blown and shaving it down to a shine.
I love all colors of hair on people. The brighter the better. I always wished I had hair like Superman. Jet black to the point it had a blue gleam. I also envied his bright blue eyes compared to my brown. I don’t mind women with hairy arms, but I do have a little creepiness with European women and their leg and armpit hair. Yes, I know I have no right whatsoever to judge, but I’d be lying if I said otherwise. My lower left leg might be missing, my medications have increased, my height is shrinking, my weight is falling, but I’ll grow you some damn hair.