I was sixty-one when I first shaved the dying mop. It had been in decline for 30+ years (my best friend from college recently said I had really been losing it since we got out of school!), but I held on to it, applying expensive "thickening" shampoos and conditioners, carefully brushing it, and locking it in place with massive amounts of hairspray. At one point in my early fifties, at my wife's suggestion, I used Rogaine, with disasterous effects--a severe rash and crusting that ultimately required medical attention. Looking back, I should have shaved it off about five years before that. I first had a hole in the back of my head, and a receding hairline, so my combover was from the top to the right side, leaving the left side as part of the part in my hair. Ultimately I faced the fact that I had two hairlines, one from the two spots of growth in front and then a strip behind that. All through this time the top was thinning--pathetic.
One day, in April, 2007, I was getting dressed and while putting on my tie, I realized I could see the window behind me through my hair--clearly showing my scalp! I got my wife's make-up mirror to get a good look--not pretty. I knew it had to come off--but I also knew my wife was totally against it. Two friends of ours were "sly" and I had mentioned that it looked like a good solution, both looked a lot better once they ditched the dying mop. She went ballistic--totally. So I struggled w/ the fact that it had to come off and her opposition.
I dithered about, started searching on the web, found sites that suggested shorter was the answer for thinning hair. Finally on September 7 (I think it's interesting I remember that date so well), for no apparent immediate cause, I stopped at the barber at lunch and said, "Buzz it!" First he did a 4, and then a 3--and that's how I left. People at work that afternoon really liked it. Wife that night--literally screaming--"You've lost your dignity, you look life a freak, why are you doing this to me!" On and on--just a total melt down. But, I liked it.
Had to go to see my Dad who was sick. This was in the West, and all my relatives there liked it--one uncle said "You're bald, just like your Dad and me!" His sons, both have total heads of hair--they don't have foreheads, they have threeheads! My aunt's oldest on the other hand--bald and sly. And he said take it off, and gave me his extra clipper.
Back at home, I buzzed it to a 1, and wow, it felt great. But, in any kind of light at all, it was clear I had advanced mpb, and it was only a matter of time til there wouldn't be anything to buzz but the sides and back--and I dreaded the Bozo ring--another story.
Finally, on Friday, 10/12/07, I got ready to go to the gym, but I stopped downstairs and 0 buzzed it. My wife had gone to work when I got back, so out w/ the Fusion and gel, and off w/ the hair. Wife nearly had a total and complete breakdown--crying, screaming, cursing, you name it--I could have had her committed if we'd been anyplace else but New Orleans.
Almost everyone else liked it even better than the buzz--and some of my wife's best friends among them. One came up to me at a party, Halloween I think it was, and said, "Please don't tell Jenny, she said she'd kill me if I told you, but I think it looks great, sexy, just fantastic!" Several others said the same--to wife's face--and that set her off again. She's quieted down lately, but she really, really doesn't like it--but it seems she is resigned to living w/ it. She's never, not once, touched my dome.
Probably more than you asked for, but that's it. And, of course, I still like it-
-wouldn't have it anyother way
--except maybe a costume for Mardi Gras--it is New Orleans, after all.