Hairloss History
Monday, February 14, 20051:43 PM
Well since this site is called ShaveYourHead.com, I figured you might wanna know where it all began. Who's to blame? When did it begin? What did I look like with hair? Am I really bald or do I just shave it? When did I first shave my head? Well, check out the follicle follies, find out for yourself and enjoy.
This is my grandfather, John, who we called papou in the Greek heritage. The bald gene in genetic on the mother's side and since papou is my mom's dad (who married a Greek lady, known as yiayia), I thank him for my bald dome. He shaved his head when he went into the Navy and it never grew back. In addition to being bald, he also had a filthy mouth, an affinity for dirty jokes and sold porn movies at a flea market. Simply put, I was destined to be like my papou.
1-year old. As a baby barely able to walk, the hair was shiny and able to be combed nicely. Notice the lack of an upper lip, though.
9-years-old. In the early grade school years, the hair almost reached my eyebrows as it gathered on my head in all its full and thick glory.
15-years-old. I guess I figured a curly mullet and slightly spiked hair on the side was a good look in catholic high school. Along with braces and Harry Caray-like glasses, I was the epitome of a loser - nevermind the teal turtleneck and matching cardigan. This picture is enough of a reason to not have kids as I wouldn't want them to ever see this sad sight they'd refer to as 'dad'.
18-years-old. My senior portrait. Luckily, the silk teal shirt and obnoxious multi-colored tie isn't showing. The hairline was in tact and even featured the frontal region combed upwards to copy the 90210 look of Dylan and Brandon, complete with sideburns and tons of gel. You can't tell but those who sat behind me could - I was thinning slightly on top of my melon.
19-years-old. Posing for a headshot for my community college newspaper, the glaringly obvious recession began. I tried to distract the ladies from looking at my baldness by tying a flannel shirt around my waist and wearing green or orangish jeans. Instead they pointed at the balding guy who looked old enough to be a teacher but dressed too much like a douchebag to be one. They also wondered where the dorky glasses were hiding.
20-years-old. The frontal tuft of hair, clinging to my cranium like Florida to Alabama and Georgia, didn't dissuade my friends Gary and Michelle from having me as an usher in their wedding. Amazingly enough, I also had a nice looking girlfriend as my date, Beverly. Maybe it was something in the water with the three of them.
22-years-old. The beginning of the end. Wow was it flying off my head. I had moved to Arizona after graduating broadcasting school in December of '96. The ever-present sun caused a blinding glare to radiate off my head. The bald spot in the back was rarely seen as I wore some kind of headgear wherever I went. Except floating down Salt River. I figured if I was tan I wouldn't look like such a dweeb. It worked for Kojack. However, it was too much to handle at such a young age. I was merely a year removed from being old enough to drink. A few days after these pictures were developed I shaved it off. And I've never looked back at my hair. Although I do look at the hair on my back now.
25-years-old. Standup comedy was seen as a serious career pursuit. ShaveYourHead.com was born and I wasn't about to rethink growing my hair back.
