What is it About Hair?

Hair. What is it about hair that surrounds us from the time we wake up, until we push that last lock of hair from our face before falling asleep? It's the crowning glory of queens in times gone by, it's flowing tresses moving in slow motion from one side of a beautiful model's face to the other. Innocent bystanders look on as a perpetual pendulum swings between jealousy and cocky confidence that "my hair is just as good!" Hair! That all over stuff that grows out heads, but sometimes not. It coils in defiant curls that refuse to be put under the iron and tortured into straight. On the flip side of the coin called head, it's the crying, pleading, begging for curls that will last longer than the first drop of rain that lands kerplop on straight hair. Before feeling sorry for the curly do's or the straighter than straight heads, think about those with no hair at all. Or do they have hair?

We've all seen them, the bald man with not a shred of hair evidence to be held under a microscope for DNA purposes who can sprout an amazing beard. The graying, monk tonsured man with only his glasses sitting on top of his head, yet black eyebrows hover like a thick caterpillar with no place to go. And excuse me while I blush for a moment, but why in the world does pubic hair sport a bright and energetic red when the rest of the body reveals a dull gray? I'm curious about all this and sometimes wake in the night wondering how Mother Nature in her infinite wisdom could play such tricks on lowly human beings.

While I'm on the subject of hair I want to know why all this occurs. Is it purely happenstance? I've also decided that this thing called male pattern baldness is baloney! Sure, as women, our hips our wide enough to carry the burden of blame for our sons lack of thatch on the head, BUT should the blame be put at our feet? I'm sure I've seen men with bald fathers become bald in the very same pattern. So much for blaming girlie genetics.