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6.05.2012

FOLLICULAR FOLLIES

There are things in life that are mysteries.  Quite possibly there are more things that hold a portion of their meaning, reason, purpose, function, origins and total identity wrapped up in a bit of mystery or not totally figured-out-ishness than not.

God is amazing.  His work of art in the human body is absolutely mind-boggling, incredibly intrigue in design and awesome in its sustaining ability.  It holds though, mysteries.  Mysteries such as....

     Why does hair grow at an incredible rate in men's noses and ears
     as they age, yet thin on their head?

     Why do flailing and receding estrogen levels have to produce
     chin hairs on women as they age? 

Both are a mystery to me.  They seem an anomaly of sorts.  They also seem much akin to the age inevitable elasticized polyester pants, off-tone dress jeans for men, Blair Catalog inspired same color top and shorts, socks with sandals, and appliqued bird sweatshirts. 

Years and years ago there was a man in our church named Dale (that really narrows it down for you!).  Suffice to say he had much of the Canadian Forest growing out his nose and ears.  Mind you, he was NOT vision impaired in any way, shape or form.  For that I would have cut him some hygienic slack.  The only way he could NOT have seen the redwoods sprouting out his facial orifices would be if he never stopped in front of a mirror.  And, by the looks of ALL of him, that might have been the case. 

Week after week the forest remained.  Was he a granola, a tree-hugger of sorts?  He had a wife, which also both disturbed me and made me wonder what she found attractive.   Why, I often wondered on Sunday mornings post-service, did she not say, "Honey, I have a small gift for you - rotary clippers. And, a lifetime supply of batteries."  Why did she just not trim them for him if need be.  I would have thanked her deeply for that sacrifice.

A time or two or three or more, I wondered how long it took to get his orifice hair growth to that density?  Really, did Dale just one day say, Oh the hell with it!  I am tired of keeping up with this never ending trimming battle.   Kind of like when we reach a stage where it's easier to put on elasticized pants than it is to exercise.

I have a friend, who shall remain nameless, that owns a bevy of tweezers.  She strategically leaves tweezers in her purse, her desk and her car.  Depending on the lighting of the environment you find yourself in, chin hairs become apparent.  Wanting to be able to pluck those bad boys out when sighted in any venue, she covers all her geographic bases.

Entering the chin hair years myself, I am amazed at how they can grow about the speed of corn in a field.  I swear I have plucked a couple out in the morning only to see yet another one by nightfall.  Is that the menopausal equivalent of a 5 O'clock shadow?  The hair on my legs has thinned to almost non-existent, but now seems to be re-routing itself to my chin. 

Aging hair growth in unwanted areas is a mystery to me.  A Bermuda Triangle of age and the human body.  It's mysteriously maddening!! 

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