Every year about this time - just before our church's annual youth conference - I shave my head. It started off as something completely unrelated to that event, but managed to get associated with it. By now, it's approaching a decade-old tradition. The beginning of June rolls around, and off comes the hair. My hairless head even has it's own name, thanks to my youngest a few years ago, who called it "Dada's Bald".
I keep the goatee, because - as the Mandarin shows - a bald head and a beard is a fabulous combination.
Just this year, though, I think I've started to see a change in the reaction I get from strangers who see me in all my shorn glory. In the past, sometimes I would catch people glancing at me, then doing a little bit of a double take. I was pretty sure I could predict exactly what was going through their head at that point - something very much like, "Uh-oh. Skinhead?"
I'm sure the goatee didn't help matters.
Now? I still see the same reaction, but the double-take is a bit more like a relaxed glance. For some reason, my bald head and facial hair combination has somehow managed to cross a line I didn't even know was there. I'm still pretty sure that I can still predict exactly what's going through their minds, though.
Sigh. Apparently, sometime in your mid-40's, "bald with a beard" stops looking sketchy and dangerous, and starts looking like an attempt to cope with male pattern baldness.
Ah, well. At least I still have my tough-guy reputation as a computer programmer to fall back on.
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