Where oh where are all the folicles going?

It has begun. It started with a lone strand here and there. "No big deal!" I would tell myself. But before long that 1 or 2 strands turned into 5-6 strands. I know that I should be happy that it took over 32 years, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. I think even my grand plan of plucking it out of my ears so it would still grow on my dome is starting to fail. I might as well admit it. I, Donald R. Sorenson, ESQ. am starting to lose my hair.

As much as I detest my curly hair, the thought of it no longer being on my head is something I have been thinking about for a very long time. When I was 7 I sat on Santa's lap and asked him for a strong and thick head of hair, so I would not end up like my Dad or my Grandfather. When I was 13 I started calling up the Hair Club For Men to inquire just how soon someone could join their club. I was actually quite annoyed when the lady told me to stop prank calling them, and how they are there to help people, not be my personal joke telling line. I even joined a Rogaine mailing list so I could always be on top of the latest advances and developments in the science of hair retention.

I don't know why my hair is that important to me. I wear a hat 95 percent of the time. Normally I only style it on Sundays so I can look suave at church. In fact my one and only goal for my hair was that it stayed around long enough to bag myself a hottie of a wife. Anything after that I was considering a bonus. But now that my forehead seems to be getting bigger on the left side of my head, I am starting to remember all the good times me and my hair had.

Like that time in 8th grade when I decided to cut my mullet off. The year was 1992, and even though mullets had not yet started to lose favor with the general public, I was tired of having hair that when wet was below my shoulders, but when dry became bunched up around my ears like some sort of hair neck warmer due to the curliness of it.

When I told my mom of my hair altering decision she took me into the salon where she had her hair cut. When we walked into Precision Cuts (Back when it was in the Highlands Shopping Center.) she introduced me to a stylist named Katie. It was right then I knew I had made a good decision. You see, Katie was very attractive. And since before whenever I needed a hair cut I would have my mom do it, it was a whole new experience having a hot young hair stylist cutting my hair and running her fingers though my curls. I might have only been 14 at the time, but I was secretly planning ways I could make Katie not only fall in love with me, but get permission from my parents to let me go out with her. I would even do the dishes, and I HATED doing dishes. It seemed like a fair trade off to me.

Katie cut my hair for several years. When I knew I was heading in, I would do some push ups so my 103 pound body would look nice and toned. You know, just in case that was going to be the day she would announce her unrelenting love for me. But alas, that day never came. Instead I would have to hear about her boyfriend and what he was up to. Remember that hair? Good times.


Or my senior year in high school when I would grow my hair out just so I could go pick up a hair relaxer kit and straighten it. Remember how I wasn't able to brush you for 2 days due to the 2nd degree burns on my scalp? And that was using the children formula. My good friend Travis loved to make fun of how my white head couldn't even take the relaxer his 10 year old sister would use. But for those glorious 3 weeks, my hair was straight! Oh the memories.

There were also several times when I changed hair styles. The most memorable one was when I used to comb my hair straight down. It was during this time I found the woman of my dreams. Because of that fact I didn't want to change how I combed it. But then one day my sister in law Jennifer, who is always on top of the latest fashions, explained to me that I looked like I lived in Utah. The only thing missing was a BYU shirt and girls around asking if I was an RM or not. The next day I ditched the down look and went up with the front. And I must admit, it was a good change in style for me. Other than minor changes here and there, my hair is still done in this fashion.

Yes, my hair has had a good run. After all, I was 100 percent convinced that by high school graduation I was going to look like our drunken high school security guard Mr. Ralston. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that at the ripe "old age" of 32 I would still have the locks of a soap star. But I did. It is now time to let go, although don't think I will go down without a fight. I am pretty sure I have that information packet from Bosley that I sent away for when I was 16 somewhere around here. Lucky for me, I believe that Rogaine can be bought over the counter now. I might even have to work a little OT here and there to cover the cost of my new hair treatments.

Parting is such sweet sorrow. While I know it will be a while before it is all gone, I will still shed a tear in the shower every time my hands are covered with my own lettuce. I will be OK. I have assurances from Lisa that she will not mind me looking like Anthony Edwards. And who knows? Maybe there is a whole new bald world out there I didn't even know existed. Today I take the first step. Acceptance.


Now where did I put that can of spray on hair...