June 11, 2008
I have a problem. As I've aged, I find that I have a need to cure droopiness. I can't maintain an erection. What was once strong and full now lays flat.
I'm speaking of my hair.
It my youth, it was thick and coarse and would do just about anything that I told it to do. A spritz of hairspray was all that I needed. If I wanted it to be full, it was. If I wanted it to look windblown, it did. It was Miracle Hair, and bobby pins, rubber bands, bathing caps, misplaced gum, and bad home perms could not harm it.
As my multiplying gray hairs mount a scalp coup, they cling limply to my head no matter how much volumizing product I use. I could apply a quart of spackle with a leaf blower, and twenty minutes later my hair would still be as flat as William Hung on American Idol. The last time the hairs on my head stayed this close to my skull was back in my hippie years in college, but that was only because it was halfway down the middle of my back and weighed about 300 pounds.
Desperate, I actually began reading newspaper and magazine articles about Baby Boomer hair. One of the suggestions: don't shampoo daily. If you wash your hair every day, natural oils are washed away as well as the hair cooties and daily grime. The article suggested that one should go as long as possible without shampooing, perhaps as long as a week.
At first the notion appalled me. I've been a daily hair-washer ever since I got over my hippie phase (see above.) But in the interest of once again enjoying manageable hair, I decided to give it a try.
Skipping one day didn't help at all. Nor did two.
I haven't washed my hair since May 23rd. The good news is that it sports a kind of greasy spikiness and I don't have to use product to lift it. The bad news is that I'm afraid to go out in the yard for fear that the squirrels will think my head an excellent place to bury their food.
But the other good thing is that I've become a social pariah. No one wants to get closer than a city block from me. At that distance, who knows if my hair is flat?
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