Me: My Hair has had a career defined by wild extremes. Each highlight, such as His First Trip to the Barber, has been followed by failures like So This is a Mullet. I am confident that My Hair will have lots to say in what is his first opportunity to speak out publicly. Welcome, My Hair. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule.
My Hair: The pleasure is all mine. Frankly, I thought no one really cared about my career anymore.
Me: Let’s start by focusing on some of those moments when you struggled. What were you thinking when you found yourself working on The Too Tight Perm?
My Hair: Yes, yes, that was quite grueling, wasn’t it? Well, the fact is, I had always had dreams of being a loose mane of long curls — unkempt but sexy — kind of like a modern day Jim Morrison. I expected a loose perm, but came out with a set of tight curls — more “Weird Al” Yankovic than Mr. Morrison.
Me: Did Shave It All Off come as a relief after this experience?
My Hair: Somewhat. Actually, Shave It All Off had been something I wanted to work on since the Limp Mohawk Incident — another tragedy that I’d rather not get into.
Me: Let’s go back to some of your early work. What do you look back on most fondly?
My Hair: From my early years, I look back on Before My Classmates Cajoled Me into Washing My Hair Every Day as a particular nadir. Before then, I basked in the innocence of just being who I was. I did not feel the incessant pressure of needing to look like everyone else. I miss the days of that free-flow of creativity: letting dirt and dead leaves stick to me for days on end. Splattered mud was a form of unconscious self-expression. All of my contemporaries were in a thriving creative cauldron; then came junior high school. Suddenly, my peers were smothered in gels and drained of life by blow-dryers. That’s when I became involved with The Hairspray Debacle. Can after can of that stuff can rot your brain and eat away at your follicles. Let’s just say — when you wake up one day surrounded by empty cans and the dank scent of aerosol in the air, you learn to stop cold turkey.
Me: Your career kind of faded for a bit. You were long ignored and didn’t try anything new or edgy as you attempted to do in your 20’s.
My Hair: I chalk that up to the relative implosion that followed Damn, Is My Hair Thinning? I found myself in a deep depression. I was riddled with anxiety and my contact with the outside world became limited. I became a virtual recluse — hiding under baseball caps and winter hats. As far as I was concerned I would have been happy to never see the light of day again.
Me: That changed, however.
My Hair: As everyone knows, I came out of my shell with I Have a Girlfriend Who Loves Me, Potential Male-Pattern Baldness and All. Yes, thank God for that. If that hadn’t happened, I might have languished in constant reruns of Shave It All Off forever.
Me: These days you seem to have gained the respect of your peers. You are very visible and generally admired, or at least tolerated by your audience. Do you think it had much to do with I Have a Girlfriend…?
My Hair: Most definitely. Especially because that was followed by She Married Me, Now I Can Go Completely Bald and I Won’t Be Alone. This whole period of my life has given me a confidence I never had before. It’s allowed me to tap into a sense of just being myself, which I never had as a youth. I think this happens to most in my position. It has also given me the confidence to engage in riskier material again.
Me: You mean such things as Why Pay $25 to a Hair-Dresser When I Can Cut My Own Hair with a $25 Pair of Shears?
My Hair: Yes. And Mutton-Chops Can Look Good on a Forty-Year-Old.
Me: Well, I want to thank you for talking with me today. Before we go, can you tell us which of your future projects you are most excited about?
My Hair: I probably shouldn’t say anything about this, since so few know about it yet, but I’m currently in hot negotiations over Honey, What Do You Think of Cornrows?
If you enjoyed this piece, visit Russell Bradbury-Carlin’s web site: AllMyShoesAndGlasses.com