The first thing you’ll notice when you finally come to grips with who you are is that you suddenly have more time and money than you ever imagined. Did you realize that you are actually a wealthy person who has been hiding inside a not-so-wealthy person’s body? Did you realize that you were the kind of husband/father/boyfriend/friend that could always be there for your loved ones?
Oh, my bald brothers, let me count the ways.
Time is on your side—Morning
How would you like to sleep an extra twenty minutes, thirty minutes, sixty minutes or more? Done. You have all the time in the world in the morning because you no longer have to waste your time doing things like…
• shampooing
• drying your hair
• swirling your hair into a combover
• checking the weather channel for wind patterns
• spraying hair spray to hold remaining strands in place
• applying gel or mousse
• looking in the mirror at your bald spot growing
• applying Rogaine
• picking the dead skin around your plugs
• making up fake illnesses so you can stay home
• combing your piece
• trimming your piece
• fluffing your piece
• kissing your piece
By eliminating these items from your morning prep-time, you are on your way to giving the world a gigantic boost in the arm.
Time is on your Side—Daytime
With up to an extra hour of sleep, you’ll find that you’ll tap into energy that you never realized you had. This will make you get your work done faster, more efficiently, and will turn the head of your boss. That means you’ll get promoted, and everybody knows what happens when you get promoted: It’s slack-off time, baby! Now you can make everyone else do all the work. That leaves you with up to six extra hours of time per day.
Throw in the extra time you’ll save by no longer doing the following…
• shopping for hats
• trying on hats
• washing and maintaining your hats
• reading hat catalogs
• ordering hats from catalogs
• awkward chit chat with hair stylists
• writing angry letters to makers of sham bald products
• conferring with your lawyer about restraining orders you’ve received from sham bald product manufacturers
• writing letters to attorneys of sham bald products
• testifying at Grand Jury hearings against sham bald products
• putting sugar in your bald-joke-loving brother-in-law’s gas tank
• putting lice in Warren Beatty’s hat
• hunting animals for their hair
With all of these activities off your schedule forever, you suddenly have more time than you ever realized. Look out world, here come the answers to your problems.
Time is on your side--Evenings
With your new-found confidence and stamina, the little woman in your life is going to find out just exactly how virile a bald man can be—and she probably won’t be able to keep that silly smile off her face. Trying to keep up with you, she will be forced to get into shape. That means she won’t be home much. She’ll be at the gym working out for that night’s session. That means you’ll have all sorts of extra time that you used to spend…
• refilling the dish washer to her ridiculous specifications
• digging through the garbage for things that should have been recycled
• talking to her
• listening to her
• begging her for a little…ahem…love
If you’re a father, this extra time will allow you to spend more time with your kids, which will help you form a healthier bond with the next generation of bald dynamos. When your wife sees how much you are helping the kids, she will get even more excited by you.
That’s the good news. The bad news is that you won’t have too much free time after she gets home from the gym…because she won’t let you leave that bedroom until she passes out with fatigue.
And you were upset about going bald?
E.E. Cummings (1894-1962)
Famous balding poet E.E. Cummings was one of the most popular American poets of the 20th century. He was known for his bold approach; shunning rules and conventions. Cummings wasn’t bothered with rhymes, punctuation, syntax, or baldness. He was a poetic rebel and an intellectual giant.
My baldology colleague Michael Medina has been a Cummings-head for many years, and claims to have uncovered this previously unpublished Cummings poem. Yes, it was hand written, and yes, a few handwriting experts have confirmed that the handwriting was an exact match with Medina’s own handwriting, but whether or not this is the really work of Cummings himself or just a Cummings-head, it’s truly comforting. It’s entitled “Follicles”…
follicles needy, my petulant child, gimme gimme gimme,
gimme nutritents, gimme soap, gimme nutrients, gimme soap, gimme life then give me freedom
take your freedom, take it down the drain, tangle yourself there
a plumber charges seventy five dollars an hour, liquid plumber is cheap,
and I pour it on you, eating you up, sending you down in the sewer,
now you tangle on rats as you swim to the sea and you tangle on dung and you reek,
you have freedom, enjoy your new life, my bald head doesn’t miss you, my petulant child,
no more gimme, no more gimme, no more gimme.
I breathe now.
You rot in the sewer.
What If He Answers Me?
Good news, bad news. The good news is that He does grant face-to-face sales appointments on occasion. The bad news is that you’ve probably just been involved in some sort of fiery car crash.
This is the ultimate go-time. Have your closing argument on the tip of your (potentially severed and bleeding) tongue. It’s your only chance. Here are a few tried and true sales approaches that might work for you.
The Porcupine Close is a technique that uses leading questions to get desired results. For instance, if the Lord asks: “Have you accepted me as your personal savior?” You can respond with something like “Would you like my bushy new full head of hair and me to accept you as my personal savior?”
Mirroring could work too. That’s a technique that counts on mirroring speech and mannerisms of your potential client in an effort to build a rapport. It’s going to be tough to prepare because He hasn’t really spoken to anyone we know of for a while, but last we heard, He was doing the whole burning bush thing. A few prepared quips like “And I thought Boca was hot, you know what I’m saying?” could work wonders.
Bringing Up the Competition is another possibility. We live in competitive times, and the Almighty may not be immune to market forces himself. If it starts sounding like your request is about to be denied and all hope is lost, you may want to bring up the competition. For instance…
God: I appreciate your time on Earth and all, but we’re really looking at going in a different direction.
You: Satan said you’d say that.
God: You’ve called on Satan?
You: Oh yeah. He said that hair re-growth was definitely an option, and that I should go with him, because you couldn’t do it.
God: He said I couldn’t do it?
You: He also thinks you can’t restart my heart and make me avoid that fiery car crash.
God: Satan is a hack. Watch this.
Hating the Generic
During Stage Two Anger and Rage, you might want to avoid hating specific people entirely. There are plenty of generic classifications of Fullheads that are easy to hate instead.
For instance; Anchormen. As a group, it’s hard to top anchormen. Television news directors obviously scour the country looking for genetic freaks that still have fabulous heads of hair well into distinguished old age. The list is endless. On a national level, over the years we’ve been treated to Walter Cronkite, Dan Rather, Tom Brokaw, Brian Williams, Peter Jennings, Scott Pelley, Brit Hume, Wolf Blitzer, Sean Hannity, Chris Matthews, Geraldo Rivera, etc. Local television news anchors are also hair freaks. Just hate them all, and you can’t go wrong.
Movie casting directors are another safe target. Why? Because the evil villains in movies are disproportionately bald. The James Bond series was particularly inflammatory in its portrayal of bald men. No less than three of its evil villains were bald. “Austin Powers” went so far as to call its bald villain, “Dr. Evil.” This is not a new trend. Since the beginning of the movie era, the bald character was more likely to be the murderer, the psychopath, and/or the bad guy. Was it really necessary to cast a balding man as Mr. Potter in "It's a Wonderful Life"? Surely Bela Lugosi was available.
The Broadway musical “Hair” is another great thing to hate, for obvious reasons, but instead of hating the specific people that perform in it, or the jerk who wrote it, if you hate it generically, you can’t get into trouble. It still plays all over the country, so there will be lots of opportunities to have it boil your blood. Just leave Treat Williams (one of the original stars) alone. He has suffered enough in his career. If you reserved a weekend to watch all of Treat’s award winning acting performances, you would still have time left over to clean the garage, run a marathon, cure cancer, write a novel, translate War & Peace into Gaelic, do a 34,000 piece jigsaw puzzle and balance the United States budget.
It’s also OK to hate children. Instead of lashing out at specific kids like the one in the elevator that says to her mommy “What happened to that man’s hair?”, if you hate all children equally you won’t feel the need to lash out specifically. Your own children may have a few rough years, but remember that Anger and rage won’t last forever, and think how much emotionally tougher they’ll be if they have to work a little harder to receive Daddy’s love.
High school reunions are another easy target of generic hate. There are really only two things that former classmates discuss at those horrible events; the girls that got fat, and the guys that went bald. Just so you know, the girls that got fat usually don’t attend. That leaves one target, and you look at him every day in the mirror. For the love of God, don’t ever attend one (unless your school mascot was the “Skin Heads” or "The Fighting Emus"--then school spirit may compel you), but feel free to generically hate them anyway.
And by all means, hate the hair care industry. These faceless generic people think nothing of charging $20 for a thirty-second haircut. They intentionally sell some of the ridiculous hair care remedies we mentioned in Stage One. But worst of all, they treat us as if they haven’t even noticed we aren’t Fullheads. Ordering workers to make small talk about mundane matters while pretending to cut non-existent hair is contemptible, and certainly worthy of your generic Stage Two hate.
