Pride Goeth Before The Fall of The Hair Off The Head.

Several days after my spring headshave, this weekend I noticed the beginnings of The Dreaded Baldspot forming. On one hand, I suppose it means I still have plenty of testosterone pumping through my system. On the other, I was hoping to make it at least into my forties before it started. Missed it by about ten months.

I can deal with grey in my goatee. But going bald means I really have arrived at the thing I have been calling myself since before I was 25 -- Old Fartdom.

Does this mean I have to give up playing Star Wars Rebel Assault II and start playing canasta or cribbage or ... (shudder) ... shuffleboard? Do I have to give up my goals of someday getting back into comic books and putting my earring back in? Do I give up watching Spongebob and start watching 60 Minutes? Should I trade in my Guns N Roses and Pink CD's in favor of some Glenn Miller or ... (even worse shudder) ... countrypolitan? And do I gripe that you can't buy 8-tracks anymore?

It seems I am presented with a few options.

1. Pretend I didn't see it and keep doing what I have been doing, and risk becoming the pathetic Old Guy living in denial and trying desperately to his long-gone youth.

2. Throw on a baseball cap and hope I can get away with it another 5 or 10 years, but isn't that just kicking the can down the road?

3. Grow my hair long; Mom said it wasn't noticeable when my hair was longer. Maybe put it in a ponytail and become unpleasant Simpsons character Comic Book Guy.

4. Shave my head daily so it looks deliberate. Problem is, with my dark hair, when I shave my head it looks like my head's covered with a giant black birthmark, until the hair grows out a little in a few days.

5. Slather on the Rogaine.

6. Start rockin' a toup.

So, my minions, what's it gonna be?