Baldness: is not parting such sweet sorrow?
Sporting a glare-reflecting noggin has affected countless aspects of my life. I’ve held tight to my current job for nearly 25 years partly because I’m terrified that if I started pounding the pavement for a new job, all the windows would have signs that declared, “Chrome-domed freaky people need not apply.”
Although snappy comebacks such as “Grass doesn’t grow on a busy street” and “God made only so many perfect heads; the rest He covered with hair” are available to me, I generally just grin and bear it when people bless me with (allegedly) good-natured ribbing.
I have refrained from going all Old Testament on anybody. But I’m certainly intrigued by the incident involving Elisha the prophet. A gang of young punks taunted him with “Go up, thou bald head,” so he summoned two bears that gave them a good mauling. (“And those pick-a-nick baskets had better be kosher, too!”)
I’ve managed to meditate and maintain a downright Zen attitude. Forget one hand clapping. What’s the sound of one hair waking up and shouting, “Hey, where did everybody else go???”
I wish I could write more about this single capitulation to the aging process, but I must tune in “The Dick Van Dyke Show” before I miss Rob Petrie’s HI-larious stumble over the ottoman.
Ouch! Hey, Archimedes – can you fetch a lever, a fulcrum and an icepack? Stat!
Copyright 2023 Danny Tyree, distributed by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.
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Copyright 2023 Danny Tyree, All Rights Reserved. Credit: Cagle.com