Grieving for your hair loss, Stage 2 Anger (Part 2)

By Dave Stern (with Rick Kaempfer)




By now, scientists and psychologists all seem to agree with Elizabeth Kubler Ross’ five stages of grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

For some reason, however, nobody has ever applied these five stages to men with male pattern baldness. We’re also losing something close to us that has been a part of our lives forever…our hair. But does society, or science, or psychology care about us?

No.

That’s why we’re going to spend 2007 dedicating one column a month to helping balding men through the stages of grieving. This month we’re focusing on Stage 2 Anger, but we're doing much more than that. We're telling who to hate, why to hate them, and what to do about it.


Pop Hate

This stage won’t last forever—you have to hate while the hating is good.

We’ve tried to isolate the most heinous examples of fullhead taunters and give you tips for things you can say if you ever happen to meet them. We know what our critics are going to say about this, and we have it covered. Yes, it’s petty and maybe even cruel to single people out for hatred. On the other hand, pretending that hatred doesn’t exist is like putting your head in the sand. And the ostrich is not the official animal of Stage 2—the bald eagle is. The eagle doesn’t peacefully coexist with the other animals—he eats them.

Besides, we’re also going to give you some common sense alternatives to spending your time hating. After you have vented, you may find yourself worrying that you’ll have to give up things you love (movies, television, theatre, music, politics, your family, and children), but we’ll show you another way. It’s actually a service to help you grow and move on to the next stage. Be sure to tell that to the officer who arrests you for hurling epithets at Fabio.

Movies

Fullheads have ruled the movies since the very beginning, but some have really rubbed it in our faces, especially since the 1960s made long hair popular. One of the first fair-haired boys to stick a dagger into the hearts of our people was Warren Beatty. From his very early films, even before he let it grow out, Beatty had luxurious locks. By the time the 1975 film “Shampoo” came out, he had gone from subtly jabbing us to roundhouse punching us. His character in that movie had big poofy hair, big sideburns, and was even a hairdresser. And, oh yeah, he bagged hot babe after hot babe too. If you can’t hate Warren Beatty, you can’t hate.

Career Low-point: Supposedly the subject of the Carly Simon song “You’re So Vain.”

Helpful Conversational Hint In Case You Meet Him: “Hi Warren. I bet you think this conversation’s ‘bout you, don’t you, don’t you?” or “I bet you think this vegetable platter’s ‘bout you, don’t you, don’t you.” Feel free to adjust based on the situation but keep saying it over and over again. Won’t you? Won’t you?


Television

There are so many individual television stars worthy of your hate, but 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. Think about it. The classic network anchors: Rather, Brokaw, Jennings. The cable anchors: Hume, Blitzer, Hannity, Matthews, Rivera. The newsmagazine anchors: Stone Phillips, Mike Wallace, John Stossel. All of them are fullheads. That’s the real media bias. Oh Charles Kuralt—how we miss thee.

Helpful Conversational Hint In Case You Meet One: “Hey smart boy, what’s the capitol of ‘Fluffyhair-iztan’?”

Broadway

Why hate Broadway? Are you kidding us? One word: “Hair.” We know it came out thirty-plus years ago, but an entire musical to glorify Hair? It doesn’t get more outrageous than that. Hair doesn’t need any help, thank you very much. “Hair” is already lording itself over us every moment of every day. Do we really need some freaks running around on stage singing about it? That’s the equivalent of training your dog not to crap in the house by shoving his head in his own crap every time he does. We get it. You have hair. We don’t. You don’t have to shove our faces in it.

Helpful Conversational Hint in Case You Ever Meet Someone from the theatre: “Give my regards to Broadway…it’s this finger.”

Politics

Presidents used to be great. We really had a great stretch for awhile there, and there was no reason to hate them. Dwight D. Eisenhower was a hell of a President. Lyndon B. Johnson was a great President too. Our kind of people. The same is true of Nixon; that hairline was something we could live with. And Gerald Ford? Now that was a President!

Ever since Ford, this country has gone in the crapper, and people have hated the President ever since. Fullhead Jimmy Carter? Nice job on the hostage rescue, pal. Fullhead Ronald Reagan? Sold weapons to fullhead Saddam Hussein. Fullhead George H.W. Bush? The last name says it all—it’s an adjective for fullhead. Fullhead Bill Clinton? Impeached his ass. Fullhead George W. Bush? Same friggin adjective as his father.

We’re sorry.

We shouldn’t have written that about our current President. After all, he has shown potential for overcoming his fullhead deficiencies. For instance, he did pick a heck of a Vice President, and the man who tells him what to do (Karl Rove) is also one of us. We shouldn’t be so quick to hate. Although if Rove or Cheney goes, so does our support.

Helpful Conversational Hint in Case You Ever Meet the President: CLASSIFIED (Crossed out with a big black marker)

Music

They called them “Hair Bands.” That pretty much sums it up doesn’t it? You know the type of bands we’re talking about: Poison, Kiss, Twisted Sister, Cinderella, Ratt, Skid Row, Whitesnake, et al. They had several characteristics in common: They put on makeup, poofed up their hair like women, and performed Heavy metal music. And the chicks loved them. Bret Michaels from Poison did Pamela Anderson (that’s not speculation—we’ve screened the video as part of our comprehensive fact-checking). David Coverdale from Whitesnake did Tawny Kitaen. Gene Simmons from Kiss claims that he has slept with thousands of women—although he also had the tongue thing, which isn’t really fair.

There was so much to hate. So, so, so much to hate.

We still hate them. And if you’re in Stage 2, we’re betting you do too.

Helpful Conversational Hint in Case You Ever Meet A Hair Band: “Guys—I’m going to get a corn dog and ride on the Tilt-O-Whirl first, but then I’ll come and see the last few songs of your set.”


Everyday Hate

Scientists have long debated the genetic origin of male pattern baldness. We’ve all heard the various theories on how it either skips a generation on your mother’s side or how it’s passed on by your father. Unfortunately, neither of these schools of thoughts has been proven. It doesn’t really matter. The bottom line is that somewhere along your defective lineage someone screwed up and mixed with the wrong kind. You’ll never be able to trace the exact ancestor who brought famine to your people, but rest assured that whoever it was is eternally getting his scalp scorched you know where.

In the meantime, what’s a Stage 2er to do? You have to find a personal, satisfying object of your hate nearby. Do you pick and choose the bald relatives and hate only them? Do you hate only the fullheads in your family because they somehow escaped the genetic curse? Yes and Yes. Hate them all, and you’ll be covered. For instance, you should definitely hate your...


Fullhead brother

If life were fair, all men born to the same parents would have similar hairlines. That would make genetic sense, wouldn’t you think? At most there should be a difference of a tuft or two, but no more than that. Sadly, this is not the case. Too often Fate’s Great Follicle Roulette Wheel will unfairly pay out to an undeserving sibling.

Imagine this situation if you can. You and your brother have always looked alike. The relatives constantly commented on your uncanny physical similarities; often calling you by your brother’s name by mistake and vice versa. Somewhere along the way, however, they stopped confusing you. At first they thought it might be your sweater. Then they realized it was your more “respectable” haircut. By the time you got out of your teens, they started identifying you as “the bald one.”

For the purposes of this section we’ll call this brother, Dick. Living with a Dick is no easy task. Even though you’re blessed with superior intellect, his shaggy locks will be a constant reminder that you got screwed in the Heredity Olympics. Your fullhead brother will probably be the most rewarding object of your anger and rage.

Enjoy. Hate him with gusto.

Vengeance Suggestion: This is the only time we endorse wearing a wig. Have a wig designed to look exactly like your brother’s haircut, and then “surprise” his girlfriend at her office. She will think you are your brother. Take her somewhere you can show her what a real virile man can do. The next time she sees your brother, he will disappoint. If your brother is married, of course, we don’t recommend this technique. He’s already had his comeuppance; he’s married.

Your toupee-wearing Uncle

No, that’s not the title of a wacky new Steve Martin movie. Virtually every bald man has an uncle that has never gotten out of Stage One. Not only is he mired in Denial but he chooses to wear a dead animal on his head. So why should you hate him? Wouldn’t showing the poor bastard empathy be the right thing to do? Maybe give him a copy of this book?

No Chance!

Every since you’ve been losing your hair, every family member has compared him to you by asking: “Hey, when are you and Uncle Squirrel-head going to start shampooing together?” Or “You think Uncle Swirl will leave you his collection of cue-balls when he dies”?

On the outside you laughed with your fullhead family but on the inside you plotted his untimely death. Besides, how many girlfriends have you lost because you introduced them to Uncle Toupee? Don’t hold back your hatred of him.

Vengeance Suggestion: Place a magnet in his hairpiece while he sleeps. Encourage his family members to wear a suit of armor. The fun never stops as the squirrel head sticks to the armor time after time. Soon he’ll stop wearing the blasted thing.


Children

So you’re riding in an elevator minding your own business when you notice a cute little toddler staring at you. Eager to spread some joy to this little person, you perform your tried and true funny-face masterpiece, “Wrinkle Nose and Tongue Waggle”. The child instantly loves your work and laughs uproariously. After the laugh riot calms down, the little angel turns to his mother and asks, “Where did the funny man’s hair go”?

Vengeance Suggestions: Here are three options.
A) Pretend you didn’t hear Damien’s question and stare at the floor.
B) Give a disdainful glance at his fat mother.
C) Scream at the top of your lungs: “The evil clown that lives in your closet took it, and it’ll take yours tonight if you close your eyes.”

We suggest you go with the last one. Obviously, this little turd’s father isn’t one of us and deserves having a kid with a chronic sleep disorder.




Next month: We learn to control our anger and enter into Stage 3--Bargaining.