Day 2 of Shredded Comfort
Also check out Day 2 of 30 Uncomfortable Days, in which Evil Jesse also shaves his head, but is more sour about it!
That’s the phrase that’s been pushing against various parts of my brain for the months I’ve been considering it. It was my friend who said it. “Well, the worst that could happen is that you look like a giant thumb for a few weeks, then it’ll grow back.”
I’ve been considering shaving my head for years. My wife fell for me partially because of the hair that hung down to my back. I had to cut that off to be a cook, but she put her foot down at shaving my head. But she softened some time in the last year or so. Since then, everyone has told me to do it. I kind of never wanted to, but it clearly the right thing to do.
Some time in the last decade bald men of my complexion suddenly got a legitimate option. When I was little the joke was “black guy is getting laid, white guy is getting chemotherapy.” When Elaine’s boyfriend had a shaved head, Jerry asked if he was from the future. Somewhere along the line that changed, and clinging to the Larry Fine was suddenly on the list that included hiking your pants too high or wearing suspenders. Not something a stylish person would do.
Not that I have ever or ever plan to consider myself stylish. Still, it’s nice to have an option. Furthermore, shaved men were rated as longing the strongest and most authoritative according to some book I read. It might have been Freakanomics. Or a Kotaku article. Who can keep track?
I’ve been meaning to do it for almost a year, but the idea terrified me. I mentioned before that I’m scared of my hair. It’s like the microorganisms swirling over my eyeballs. Ignoring it is my standard policy. The problem is that people can see my hair.
But now I’m doing uncomfortable things. This is the second toe in the water, after yesterday’s picture. I got pretty nervous as it was about to happen. That’s partially because I was standing in the bathroom with no shirt, blind from lack of glasses, with my wife standing next to me holding a rickety electric razor dating from the Kennedy administration.
The better you know my wife, the scary that image is likely to sound.
But now it’s done, and that’s that. It definitely makes my face look jowelier. That’s a word if I say it is. I have a blog, after all. I don’t think it looks too bad, even though I’m not used to it yet. The pictures are a bit wonky because we had to use the flash. But here they are:
So there you are. Does it look that much different? I’m not sure. Also, when did I get chest hair?
My favorite picture is this one, which makes me look suitably deranged:
I haven’t figured what I am going to do tomorrow. Like I said, I’m still easing into this. It’ll probably ramp up by the end of the week. I have plans, and I am really quite anxious about them. So…they’ll probably be good.