How I Got Thin

How I Got Thin

Sal Rodriguez

My mom used to wear wigs, for reasons that I will not go into here – lack of hair not being one of them. She had three wigs - a short blonde one, a short brunette one, and a dark shoulder-length one with wispy ends. She had corresponding sunglasses and outfits to match. Each wig was accompanied by a different mood.

My dad had been going bald since his early twenties, and what was once merely a large forehead, by his early thirties was accompanied by a major bald spot - much to my mom's dismay. She convinced him to get a toupee and so he did, and I do recall he looked quite good with it. I remember him putting on the toupee - begrudgingly. However, in a few moments he smiled, and even he had to admit, it did look good.

My dad wore his toupee for a couple of years, in particularly when he and my mom went out dancing, which was one of their few common interests. Eventually my dad lost enthusiasm for his toupee, perhaps because my mom only became sexually aroused by him when he wore it. (I have no idea if the preceding statement is true, but it sure sounds about right.)

Upon their break-up, when my mom threw all of my dad's belongings on the front lawn, I saw his toupee - tangled and crumpled in a pile of worthless do-dads. It looked like roadkill.

We've all seen them - the ads for hair transplants and growth formulas. The before picture displays the client looking depressed. The after shot shows him swimming, usually with an attractive woman in a bikini. I see myself potentially becoming a client.

In less than one week I'll be 31-years-old, and my hair is thinning on top. Not much in front, though taking after my dad, I have always had a large forehead. (I tell people that's because I'm always thinking a-head!) I never understood the term "male pattern baldness", because I've never actually seen a pattern. Crop circles, now there's a pattern, but baldness? No patterns.

My two older brothers show absolutely no signs of balding, so all that crap about "it comes from your mother's side”, is just that - crap. My mom says that the reason that they aren't balding is because they didn't grow up wearing products in their hair, as I have most of my life. My mom says that products clog pours on the scalp. If this were true then why just in one area?

I remember the first time I put product in my hair I was in junior high school. I became envious of the other kids who had flat top hair dos. My mom reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out an old jar of coconut pomade. That stuff was so greasy! It was reminiscent of the scene from "The Little Rascals" when Alfalfa put lard in his hair. This was similar to lard, only yellow, and it smelled better. I really wanted a product called Three Flowers, which was quite popular amongst young American-Mexican males. Now talk about oily! That product was like pouring Valvoline on the scalp, and by midday the forehead had a nice glow to it. My mom however, not wanting to spend the $1.99, opted for the coconut stuff that clumped my hair together. Now that I think about it, I'm not even sure that it was pomade. I think it was actually some sort of body rub, perhaps for sore muscles. My hair looked terrible, but my hands felt soothed and relaxed.

So the years went by, and eventually I stole a bottle of Three Flowers - that's right stole. $1.99 was just way out of my price range. Three Flowers was the mainstay, until about mid-high school when I discovered gel. I then began stealing gel. Now I don't know about your experience with gel, but hours later, if you should have the need to run your fingers through your hair, the gel literally vanishes! And I needed something that lasted until the mall, not just 5^th period. I then went to stealing mousse, but this left my hair puffy, and puffy was not the preferred look in my neighborhood. Jiffy Pop-head is what I was called. By the time I hit my mid-twenties I was back into pomade - this time actually purchasing it. I stayed clear of any product that contained coconuts, or motor oil. Pomade adorned my hair for a few years until a friend told me about a little miracle called leave-in conditioner. Where was this product all my life and why didn't anyone tell me? I have been using it for almost a year now.

So what has the products got to do with baldness? I told you - my mom says that I'm thinning because these products clogged my pours! Perhaps I should sue the companies that make these potions. I think something in the realm of, oh say, $50,000,000 would be appropriate, seeing as how much I've suffered - year by year asking my hair stylists if I was thinning:

Me: Hey, is my hair thinning?

Stylist: No, that's just your part.

Me: No, seriously, look. (Parting hair with fingers, moving head around in circular motions. Because that's how we walk around in real life - parting our hair with our fingers and rotating our head in post-rear-end accident fashion.)

Stylist: That's just how your hair parts.

Me: How much am I paying you? Because I can be lied to at SuperCuts for $12.99.

Stylist: Well, maybe a little.

And worse, the constant reassurance from girlfriends:

Girl: (Post coital) That was so amazing! You are the best! You satisfied all my desires – emotionally and physically! (All right maybe those weren't her exact words.)

Me: (Flexing muscles in mirror.) Am I going bald?

Girl: No. What are you talking about?

Me: (Flicking light switch, jumping back on the bed, and changing entire romantic mood.) Really, look. Don't you see? (Parting hair and rotating neck again) I'm going thin.

Girl: I don't see anything. That's just the way your hair parts.

Me: Wait a second, where do you work again?

Girl: SuperCuts.

When I think of baldness I can't get this certain image out of my head: in my neighborhood, growing up, there was a dog that roamed the streets - a mangy dog with patches of hair missing. I know that baldness does not equate to mange, but I can't get that dog out of my head. In all fairness, maybe the dog didn't have mange; perhaps it was just going bald. After all, the patches were in patterns.