The Pointless Comb-over

Posted: December 24, 2012 in Essays, Other Stuff, Writing

I went back home this weekend for Christmas. My brother and I went for pizza and there, at the next, poorly wiped table, was a man with the worst comb-over I’ve ever seen. Now, you may be saying, ‘Chad, all comb-overs are bad. What makes this one so very, very special?’ And I would say to you, ‘Thank you for asking. Sit. Sit, and I will tell you the tale of the Pointless Comb-over.’

I get the comb-over. We’re a vain bunch, and those people didn’t start off trying to spread three hairs over a head-full of space. At first, it was probably, simply, a thin spot that a little hair maneuveCombovers_zps5b1afa2dring easily covered. Then it became wider. But, oh, weren’t we clever with our gel and few hairs? But, I get that. It’s called denial. I have the lion’s share of my hair, but I’m sure there are things I’m not honest with myself about. That. That, I can accept. But, the pointless -comb-over… it just makes me sad.  Let me share my sadness with you.

Imagine, if you will, a field of hairlessness. Imagine a shining, pink orb of pure, unadulterated skin. Picture with me long curves of hair, springing from the side of this man’s head like sad, brown rainbows. Now, imagine that NONE of those hairs do the job of covering that head. The thing is, all of the elements of a comb-over were there–the baldness, the too-long side hair coupled with the shorter hair further down, meant to confuse us into believing: this is a normal haircut, move along, nothing to see here. But all of that perfectly good hair camouflage lay to the sides and back, useless. It was like some odd bird had built a nest of hair around a giant, pink egg.

I don’t want to hate anything about myself. Especially to the point that I go to insane lengths to cover it up. But I really, really, really don’t want to become so blase about my own sad attempts at covering up my flaws that I end up with what amounts to a pointless comb-over. So, my friend, on this holiday eve, I guess what I’m trying to say is this: Enjoy yourself for yourself. It’s okay to alter yourself. You actually should always be trying to grow and change for the better. But never, ever let your self-loathing become such a part of who you are that it becomes a defining trait.


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