Monday, April 22, 2013

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Today’s post is a glimpse into another time, another place.

Here is a picture of Mrs. RWP and me from around 1980 or 1981 that I don’t think I have shown to you before. And, in a sense, I’m not going to show it to you now either. Unfortunately the hand-held-cellphone photo of the old snapshot that I made before I got my smartphone is so out of focus that it is, dare I say it, less than perfect.

In a way, though, that sort of view -- out of focus, less than perfect -- is a pretty accurate representation of the way we often remember events from our past. We remember the big picture, of course, but the details are not quite so clear. We see them through a glass, fuzzily.

I was about 40 when this photo was taken. Mrs. RWP still had dark hair then.

I thought I cut quite the dapper figure, but the day I came home with the Afro perm my wife just laughed and laughed and laughed.

Some people who were probably high on speed told me I looked like Engelbert Humperdinck. Here he is singing “Please Release Me” (3:27).

Some people who were probably high on Jack Daniels or Jim Beam told me I looked like Harold Reid, the bass singer in the Statler Brothers quartet. I won't subject you to their singing but here they are accepting an award as Vocal Group of the Year in 1982 (2:17).

I hope you watched both videos. Then you will know more fully what I meant at the top of the post about a glimpse into another time, another place.

For those of you who never click on links to videos, here is a photograph of the Statler Brothers (I presume you do not need a photo of Engelbert Humperdinck):

(photo from

What were we talking about?

Oh, yes. My Afro.

Some people were very kind and didn’t say anything at all.

Eventually Afros went out of style and I let my hair return to its normal, straight self. Today, what is left of my hair continues to fall out at a rapid pace.

Today, alas, where once there were waves, all that remains is beach.


  1. Ah yes, back when hair had waves and now what's left is the grains of sand.

    My human has told me about bad hair days. Sometimes he think he's having a bad hair life. Such a silly old hippy.

    Be well, human.

    Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet superstar!

  2. Are you saying your hair wasn't really that curly, and what's this about taking a photo of a photo--don't you have a scanner? If not, you need to get one because I, for one, would be happy indeed if you were to put a whole lot more photos of yourself on your blog. Of course, you might point out that you're not being paid for blogging, but you need to remember that this doesn't matter to people like myself who are as demanding as we are shameless.

  3. Thank you, Penny/klahanie, for dropping by. A bad hair life -- now there's a concept.

    Snowbrush, I don't have a scanner, or abs of steel, or a Porsche -- there are lots of things I don't have. This is not an exhaustive list.

  4. Money. I especially don't have money. And if any of you would care to send me some, I would not refuse it.

  5. I take it you don't have that cute mustache any more, either. :)

  6. You know what they say, hair is temporary, but a toupée is forever!

  7. Pat, you take it wrong. I still have the/a moustache. The jury is still out on how cute it is.

    Shooting Parrots (Ian), that's a good one! They also say beauty is skin deep, but ugly goes all the way to the bone. Perhaps we shouldn't pay much attention to what they say.

  8. "Some people were very kind and didn’t say anything at all."...I suspect they were your blind or partially sighted friends. By the way my thick mane of hair is also starting to thin now - much to my chagrin.

  9. Yorkshire Pudding, I do not know exactly what you may be implying, but your comment has been duly noted and filed.

    You do know, of course, that both ends of a horse have a thick mane of hair.