Inquiring heads want to know.
Thwenty years ago, I was getting ready for another reach to Negril. I was all packed up and only had one more stop before departure. Gene the Marine (and Barber Stylist) had been cutting my hair shorter and shorter for years as there was less and less to cut. I was at the point where I could see the back of my head in the mirror without turning around. It was time to go boldly bald.
Gene hadn't had a request to shave a head in many years, but he had the necessary gear. His junior associates put down their clippers to study at the hands of the master. In a few minutes I was so smooth, there weren't enough O's to describe it. I liked it. My wife liked it. Even strange women felt compelled to waltz up and stroke my head. No unsightly hair, no hat head, and the even application of sunscreen was assured. I had discovered my last hair style!
As I left Sangster to pick up my rental car, a guy shouted out, "Hey, Michael Jordan!" It really was pretty unusual for a white guy to save his head. It was also my mother's worst nightmare, "But only black athletes do that!" "C'est la guerre, Ma."
I had Gene shave me one more time upon my return and then learned to do it myself. I was even better at it than he was. I aquired a Marblehead shirt while visiting that historic village an reveled in the sly smiles of people I passed as I strode about wearing it. Our next reach to Negril found us at Sunshine Plaza to stock up on our way to Secret Paradise. An American woman approached and asked if I was from Marblehead. 'No, he is Marblehead!" my wife retorted. The next morning as we were paying for two beach chairs at Cosmo's, a gal excl;aimed, "OMG! It's the mon I been telling you about. It's Marblehead!" My new moniker was confirmed.
I started to think of myself as the self-described president of the Smooth Headed International Travelers club. It was my joke and I felt no need to induct others. But the burdens of my office weigh heavily upon me as I grow older. It's time to pass the mantle and I call upon my fellow travelers of the smooth persuasion to place their heads in nomination. No ugly attack adds. No promises unkept. Most importantly, no flip flops. Just the bare facts. Are you smooth enough to be declared the second president of the Smooth Headed International Travelers club?
