I
was having coffee with a couple of fiftysomething buds, and the subject of
hair came up. Both friends are high of forehead, and shook their heads
ruefully. I rolled my eyes upward to my own measly gray frond and said,
“I know what you mean.”
The
look they gave me was homicidal. In their view, I had no idea what they
meant, and clearly they would, in a Lord of the Flies type
situation, do away with me and dispose of my carcass for that sad patch of
fleece.
Isn’t
that too bad? Male pattern baldness is clearly the way of both nature and
the future. Approximately 30 million men in the US experience it.
By age 35 about 40% of all men show some degree of hair loss.
It’s
not a physiological pathology, even if it does go by the name androgenic
alopecia. If anything, baldness is associated with rampant
testosterone. “Snow on the roof, but fire in the belly,” the saying
goes. It hasn’t set Sean Connery back much. Could we not celebrate what
a bare head connotes about wisdom and experience, and forget the sunlight
glinting off it?
Evidently
we can’t. Thomas Cash of Old Dominion University in Virginia, perhaps
the world’s foremost hair psychologist, says hair’s psychic importance
can’t be overemphasized.
“From
monks to skinheads, prisoners of war to warriors, ‘bigwig’ European
aristocrats to moptop Beatles, and hippies to head-shaven celebrity
athletes, hair makes a statement, whether chosen or imposed,” he says.
Hair connotes status, and therefore one’s prospects for mating and thus
the survival of one’s treasured DNA.
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Worse,
for many men it defines their identities. You either have a good head of
hair and are confident of success, or you’ve got problems up there and
you not only feel bad about yourself, but communicate that inferior
feeling to others, who then go to town with it.
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