A family hair affair
By: Linda McCarthy
When I was a kid in the 1970s, long hair on guys was quite the thing. The number one criterion for being my boyfriend was a full head of ponytail-worthy tresses.
I’m not sure if I really liked this look, or if I just went with it because it drove my father insane.
Dad was in the military. His primary rule was, "Judge a book by its cover." He insisted my dates had short hair, so naturally I was only attracted to boys with the complete opposite.
This was the source of many a heated battle in our household. I often argued that I could bring home a psychotic axe murderer with all the charm of Charles Manson, but if he had short hair, he’d be deemed OK.
You have to realize I’m the middle child, so of course it was my job to create controversy. My two sisters complied by dating clean-cut athletes, none of whom were wielding chain saws.
Since those days, man hair in my house has run the gamut, from surfer cut and undercut to buzz, mullet, and back to long. For a while, my youngest son had hair longer than mine. He looked adorable. He is a drummer in a band and you need hair for that. It’s an accessory as vital as drumsticks. I was disappointed when he cut it, but I think it’s on the way back.
My middle son has chosen to sport a Mohawk. Now there’s an interesting look. He is so cute but I often hear myself saying out loud, "Yikes…that hair!"
I think my father is channeling. This is when I have to take a step back and realize that my son, too, is a middle child and can’t help himself. Who am I to argue with that?
The ladies don’t seem to mind anyway.
My oldest is the most "normal" looking. However, he uses enough hair product to wallpaper my living room.
A major portion of his salary goes to something that makes his hair stand up. This stuff is super industrial strength. Forget running your fingers through his hair; it’s impenetrable. If an anvil fell on his head, he wouldn’t know it. I read the jar once and concluded it can’t possibly be safe for the environment, especially since my son needs a powerful solvent to get back down to his scalp.
My husband was one of those guys my father would complain about. When we were first started dating, his hair was thick, curly and past his shoulders. It was beautiful. Between the two of us, we clogged more drains than you could imagine.
Now he has a gray crew cut. He still looks handsome, but I miss that Robert Plant look. Besides, I can’t help feeling a little betrayed knowing my father is somewhere doing a victory dance.
It doesn’t matter though. It just proves the old adage, "The more things change, the more they stay the same."
When I drop my son off at school, I have to smile. There are the clean-cut athletes and the "emo" kids representing teenage angst with hair dyed dark black.
And then there is the kid with hair past his shoulders. I wonder what father is losing sleep over him.
Linda McCarthy resides in Robbinsville with her husband and three children.

