We can’t all have Mick Jagger’s genetic good luck, so what can a normal middle-aged guy with a rapidly receding hairline do?
Visit any “salon” and peruse all the men’s mags on the stand and still you won’t find a single decent-looking, cool coif for your rapidly receding hairline. The hunky guys in the glossies are all under 40. Rock stars and rock climbers with magnificent manes, managed by teams of professional coiffures and Photoshop artists.
The “Mullet” is just plain scary. The “Combover?” You’re fired! Hair Club for Men? Pretty pricey, think again. The balding ponytail? Get real. It makes people laugh behind your back, literally. Even in the hippiest of hippie towns such as the one I live in. A toupée? No way! Crewcut, brushcut, buzzcut, bowlcut. Dread locks, flatop, fade or ‘fro. Is there a cut for the 40ish dude you know?
Fret not my friend! It’s time to grab hold of your trusty blade and get down with the hottest look of the decade. Do it yourself and save a buck or two.
Who loves ya baby... Kojak is back! He’s still bald and cooler than ever! Think Mr. Clean. Moby. Or Mace Windu in Star Wars. It’s a force to be reckoned with. The ladies love it. It’s smooth. Think of all the cash you’ll save on shampoos and conditioners and the time you’ll save in coif-management.
Of course you gotta have a decent razor and a hand mirror. Let it show or let it go.
In mid-August last year I endured torrential downpours, knee deep mud, (that’s FARM mud-P.U.) to catch the swan song of America’s phavorite jamband, Phish. It was unusually wet in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom (flooded), but not too wet for 75,000 or so rabid Phish phans who left their cars in remote locations and trekked miles with as much beer and gear as they could carry to the two day festival. A lot of naiive kids didn’t make it past Vermont State Troopers on I-91 who told them to turn around, claiming the concert had been cancelled. Ouch! |
