Unplugged & Unmedicated

"My Naked Pate: the Shiny Happy Head Story"
Written by David M. Muench


As a teenager I was oblivious of any "follicularly-challenged" issues concerning myself. I had hair, damnit. Not only that, I was working out regularly; looking good and feeling good. It wasn't until I was about twenty-years-old when I realized that my forehead began to grow larger. In retrospect I don't recall being overtly ballistic and calling Sy Sperling every day of the week. You know, he's not only the president.
I wasn't really enjoying the scenario, but I accepted it, mainly because my father was bald.

It was a very gradual metamorphosis from having to worry about "bad hair" days to my "Look everybody! It's George Costanza!" days. Sure, I even had my "Gallagher" days when I grew my hair out longer in back as a Last Hoorah, and wondered why I never possessed a Sledge-O-Matic.

Every single man or woman has been gibed by friends with an exorbitant amount of bald jokes. I particularly enjoy when they pretend to fix their "hair" in the reflection of my expansive forehead. Gee, that never gets old. We've pretty much heard them all. Heck, we've even cut ourselves down. We have also retorted with "Yeah, it's a solar panel for a sex machine baby!" Or one of my favorites: "My hair fell off after hitting the headboard too much."

Truth be known, it can be downright painful. All of a sudden we're Lepers. Or at least we feel that we are. Such as the symbolic "Cutting of Samson's Hair" we feel our masculinity or femininity has been torn from our very souls. Yeah, I wouldn't mind having hair like Fabio; and what really irks me is when people that actually do have hair like Fabio shave their heads. It's like they're saying "Ha-ha. Now watch it grow back full and thick! Oooo, look here, chrome dome, a real hairline!"

Yeah, thanks buddy. Here's your handbasket and One Way Ticket. Now get lost.

I've considered using Rogaine or getting a hair transplant, but I didn't. What I did was venture forth to the Realm of the Extreme. No, I'm still a guy. Not that extreme. Last year after an inebriating night of clubbing (no baby seals were hurt) my buddy and I decided that I should shave my head. Naturally anything sounds reasonable to somebody that only an hour ago that night placed a beer label on his forehead saying; "It's the patch, I'm trying to quit."

Wow! After the task was completed, it was a very surreal feeling. I kept rubbing my head, and thinking to myself "Did I really do this?" That next morning I woke up and placed my hand on the top of my head and thought "Oh, man. I really did this!" It took awhile for my family to accept it with open minds, but now they know it's just who I am. My friends were very quick to accept it, telling me that I had the perfect head to be bald, and that I should have done this a long time ago. They also said it looked very sexy (my "female" friends said that thank you); even better than what my head used to look like. That is exactly what I needed. Another amazing thing happened: The bald jokes almost ceased completely. Almost.

I created the name "Shiny Happy Head" with the help of the REM song "Shiny Happy People", which I thought was very apt nom de plume for me. I also have the website "shinyhappyhead.com" The website focuses not on my shiny, happy head, but in making others smile and laugh; as I no longer dwell on being bald. I now like a clean-shaven head, and it's a plus when women at clubs walk by and rub my shiny, happy head. What can I say, apparently it's a good luck thing.

To the guys that are married and lament about losing your hair; get over it! You have somebody! Do you realize how fortunate you are to have someone to share the rest of your life with that accepts you for who you are? Stop focusing on what you don't have, and start appreciating what you do have.

Bald is Beautiful, baby!