Hair today, gone tomorrow?

From June 9, 2005, here is the follow-up column to an earlier piece on my hair.   

Two weeks ago, I shared that my ponytail was an endangered species. 

What I grew in my late teen and early twenties to impart that rock-star quality had, in my mid-to-late thirties, finally paid off: I looked like a rock star, all right, but the wrong one. Instead of the Roger Daltrey look, I ended up with the "original members of Lynyrd Skynyrd" look — male pattern baldness in front, mangy mess in the back. 

I bemoaned then that I had two choices: Cut it all off or effect the world's longest comb-over. 

Enter Alliance High School art teacher Martha Crookshank, who threw caution and taxpayers' dollars to the wind by assigning her students the task of giving me options, and lots of them. Obviously, some of their creative coifs are displayed here for your edification and amusement. A few require much more hair than God has seen fit to leave me, and at least one — the Castaway look — requires more facial hair than I could grow in a decade. 

But I appreciate the thoughts, kids, and I hope to have every one of you in class next year, where a special grade has been reserved for those with the temerity to mock the teacher. 

I haven't decided which style to go with, so for now, the tail remains, and the tale remains unfinished.