If My Hairline Recedes Anymore I’m Going To Have To Go On Tour With Eddie Munster The Musical
I don’t know about other men, I can only speak for myself but the whole aging thing has me really pretty stumped. I don’t understand why I can’t lose that extra ten pounds around my middle, I don’t understand why the hair in my nose grows more plentiful than on my head, I don’t understand a lot of things but I do know that if my hairline recedes anymore I’m going to have to go on tour with Eddie Munster The Musical – Don’t Get Me Started!
I suppose this is a bit of a cautionary tale to you kids out there reading this (as if there are any). When I was little I dreamed of being Eddie Munster. From birth I was performing show tunes and any time I saw a male child in a commercial or on a television show I wanted to be him. I can remember my parents taking me to a dinner theatre production of Annie Get Your Gun when I was little. There was a boy in the show that played Annie Oakley’s brother. I remember leaning over to my mother and saying, “I hope he breaks a leg and they have to ask me to do the part for the second act.” Never mind that I wouldn’t know the show one bit, I just assumed when I walked into the room, everyone would know I was pure show biz. I’m sure they did from my slicked back hair, blue platform shoes and well, just what I like to call my “Top Hat And Tails” approach to life. Meaning, that I always thought I was in an MGM musical and didn’t understand that everyone else couldn’t hear the playback that was going on in my head. Anyway, I remember watching The Munsters as a kid and thinking that not only was that Eddie Munster one hell of an actor I thought I’d like to have that widow’s peak business going on. (Of course at the time I thought it was real – ah, youth) So perhaps I cursed myself but recently when in a fitness class, I looked in the mirror to see a reflection that resembled someone from the 1980’s cast of Sweating To The Oldies and as I ran my hands through my hair to try and get rid of some of the sweat I noticed that my hairline was creeping further and further back. Widow’s peak achieved, yea me.
I’ve known for quite some time now that I’m losing the hair on the back of my head but I’ll admit it, since I rarely look at the back of myself in a mirror it’s easy enough to ignore or at least act as if the hair still exists back there in my own mind. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t look at myself naked either. I could be completely gangrene from the neck down and never know it. But when you start to get confronted with stuff on the front of you it becomes a little harder to become that ostrich with the front of your head in the sand. I don’t mind my age and I don’t kid myself with the old, “You’re only as old as you feel” because on some days that would be six hundred years old for me. No, on the whole I think I’m aging as gracefully as an old Jew can. I mean let’s face it, the fact that I’m with a black man does not help my case. He is “ageless and timeless” as one of our friends said years ago and as time wears on I fear that people will start saying, “I had no idea that Sidney Poitier was dating Jackie Mason.” But there’s something more to being confronted with the things you can’t change about yourself (well, at least not without the help of a doctor, a scalpel and a lot of plastic).
I can’t really change my metabolism and without plugs or starting to wear a toupee I can’t really do anything about the hairline creep but still some days I just want to be Snoopy on his doghouse, shaking my fist in futility at the Red Baron. But see the Red Baron only existed in Snoopy’s mind and my hairline creep is reality and on display daily for the world to see. Maybe that’s the key, maybe I need to start shifting my reality a bit so I won’t care so much. I used to say that at the end of my life I wanted to be in a sanitarium (I guess from seeing those Susan Hayward movies), I figured it was nice and white there and they gave you your meals and if you didn’t want to see someone who came to visit you then you could just act crazy and they would send them away like an assistant would do for you. Okay, maybe that’s not the answer but maybe I’ll be able to accept the things that I can’t change a little better if I start hearing that soundtrack in my head again, “I’m putting on my top hat, putting on my white tie, polishing my nails…” If my hairline recedes anymore I’m going to have to go on tour with Eddie Munster The Musical – Don’t Get Me Started!
Read More Scott @ www.somelikeitscott.com