The baldness, though, that was just goddamned unacceptable. In my twenties, I had shoulder length hair that I could pull back into a Brandon Lee from the The Crow topknot or pony tail. I loved my long hair and I regret cutting it. But the thinning made it necessary and, as I went from that to a shorter style, even the shorter style started to look like shit. So, I took to clippering it closer and closer to my skull until I finally said, “Fuck it,” and started shaving it.
So why am I telling you this? Well, because Mrs. Zombie has decided that she wants me to grow my hair again. She’s challenged me to grow my hair out until my birthday – which is like 5 weeks from now. I’ve made half-hearted attempts to grow it probably two or three times since I started shaving, but then I decide I like it shaved and go smooth again.
Funny thing is, I think the balding has slowed or stopped. Now though, I am almost completely gray. I haven’t shaved since last Friday and my head is covered with sparkly, white hairs that make me look significantly older than my 36 years. As I said, I don’t mind the gray, never have, but Mrs. Zombie hates it with a passion. I’ve actually been dying my goatee for her and, before I shaved my head, she made me dye it frequently. And it’s funny really. Most people, when they meet me, think that I’m in my late twenties or maybe thirty at the most. I still – honest to god – get carded at bars. When I don’t dye my goatee though, the gray makes a huge difference in how I’m perceived. It’s odd really.
So I’ve decided I’m going to take Mrs. Zombie up on the challenge – despite the fact that both of us are most likely going to hate it. She’ll hate it because of the gray and how old it will make me look; and I’ll hate it because the ravages of the balding have left me with an unbelievably large forehead and pronounced widow’s peak.
So – and in that vein – let’s take a look at how my hair could turn out. Here a small retrospective of men with widow’s peaks and how they sported them.
The first on the list is Craig T. Nelson. His is a worst case scenario. Notice the clean, unbroken forehead that sweeps back like a manicured snow slope to roughly the middle of the BACK of his head. Mrs. Zombie and I recently watched Blades of Gory and Craig T. was rocking a Michael Bolton-esque ‘bald-in-the-front, long-in-the-back’ party mullet. I suspect this is partially responsible for her challenge because – quite honestly – Mrs. Zombie has strange taste in men… as evidenced by her marrying me. But putting that aside, she also generally only mentions two actors she’d leave me for: George Eades from CSI, and Craig T. Nelson. That’s right; my wife has an unhealthy lust for Craig T. Nelson. I think it’s the whole Coach thing. She’s an ex-jock and something about him stirs up strange passions. I don’t get it.
Next we’re going old school! That’s right, Bela Lugosi. I could only hope to look as good as old Bela. He made women swoon, he made vampires cool, and he did it with a swept back widow’s peak. He didn’t care if he didn’t have Cary Grant’s looks, or Boris Karloff’s acting chops. He swept in with a cape and that cool-as-all-hell Eastern European accent and became a cinematic icon. Of course the heroin probably helped some too…
My mother always tells people that I look like John Travolta. I honestly don’t see it, although I do see some similarities. We’ve both struggled with our weight and he’s got dark hair and dark eye like I do. I could do worse with my own grooming. If Craig T. Nelson is the worst case scenario, John Travolta’s the best. Now that I think of it, it would be pretty fucking hilarious to sport a Vincent Vega from Pulp Fiction cut. If this works out, I’ve got my costume for Halloween next year!
Next we have Stan Lee's interpretation of the uber-widow's peak. I've read Spiderman comics since I was old enough to read and I've always been fascinated by the anatomically mysterious wonders that are Norman and Harry Osbornes' hair. WTF?!? This is just weird! And what are those strange hair ridges? Speed bumps? The really sad and scary thing is that, when I looked in the mirror this morning, the Osborne family hairline was the first thing to pop into my head. Excuse me while I shudder uncontrollably.
Finally, we’ve got the most likely of the outcomes. Although he was an idol of mine growing up, Butch Patrick’s widow’s peak is a bit too much to hope for. You have widow’s peaks, and then you have Eddie Munster’s widow’s peak. This is like Prince Valiant’s cut, or R. Lee Ermey’s flat top. Certain haircuts are iconic. And Butch rocked the widow’s peak like Eddie Van Halen rocked the guitar. Fuck yeah.
Maybe I’ll post some before and after pics… before I promptly cut it all off on Dec 13th.