As I grow older, I seem to be able cultivate florets of hair from the most unlikely places. I am a proponent of evolution. It makes more sense than any opposing viewpoint. I understand how nose and ear hair protects those organs from dust and other airborne particles, but what is the function of the ever-increasing fleece on my back? Come on Darwin!! Is the aging process gradually returning me to my Pithecanthropus roots? And why do my auditory and olfactory senses suddenly require more protection now than when I was thirty? And what is that three-inch wild hair that occasionally appears overnight on my earflap that is protecting nothing?
And my eyebrows. I don’t think they required much attention during most of my adulthood, but now, who am I, Leonid Brezhnev (young people google his image)? I go for a haircut and invariably, my stylist (they like to be called that) will ask, somewhat disgustedly, ”would you like me to trim your eyebrows?” Who would say no to that? “No thanks, I am trying to look as unappealing as possible, that’s why I am paying you $20.00 for a haircut.” Then she pulls out the industrial strength clippers and deposits more hair cuttings directly into my eyes than she removed from my noggin. It wouldn't be so bad if my eyebrows grew symmetrically, but there are always offshoots that are a good inch longer than the bush. I wish it were socially acceptable to request a nose and ear hair touch-up as well. A conscientious stylist will however, casually remove the aforementioned single, wild earflap hair. I am certain that I am referred to in the appointment book as the missing link.
I knew a man in Wyoming about my age, who had totally given up on controlling his nose hair plantation and allowed it to become one with his mustache. An attractive look, it was not. When talking to him, you could not help but be drawn to this unique feature. Very much like a conversation with someone with a huge, black mole on his face. And yes, sometimes an unplanned hair can be seen emanating from that pre-melanoma.
Thankfully, at an age when many men are combing-over what little hair they can produce, my Native American heritage has spared me pattern baldness. But suddenly, the rest of my body has more fur than a 1970’s porn shoot.