COLUMN: One part of the problem
I made a rather deliberate lifestyle change not long ago. Now, it may not seem like much to the general reading public, but believe me when I say it was a product of much pain, thought and oversight to execute — no matter how simple of an act it was. Get ready for it.
I, Steve Schwartzman, have officially parted my hair.
Please bear in mind, this is no natural, lackadaisical, borderline-grunge Eric Matthews’s part. I’m talking about the deep-gelled, combed over, straight-as-an-arrow, Stuart Minkus-level part. This is a part so well defined it would stand as the perfect visual allegory for Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” if it weren’t pushed to the left. I even celebrate my new favorite themed activity, “middle-part Wednesday.”
At this point you are most likely thinking about two things: “Dude, Steve, if you are so strapped for ideas for columns that you must result to writing topically about hairstyles, just switch over to writing Play-doh reviews and save us the space,” or “What possessed you to part your hair like such in 2012?”
My responses: I’d happily write about Play-doh, had it not been for the recent infamous “Occupy Floam” stunt movement at Lego Land — I’m not one for controversy — and, to be frank, there are some very apt purposes for my new choice of mop that aren’t my desire to have a place to hold a pencil in the event both my fingers and ears get sore.
You see, you can tell a lot about a man by his hairstyle. If you’re a fan of the spiked look, prepare for endless comparisons to “that guy from Linkin Park,” Christopher Lloyd or “the other guy from Linkin Park.”
Do you enjoy a longer-locked look? I suppose if it worked for Tom Brady — and it didn’t — it could work for you.
Slick it back? Hope you enjoy the world of furniture store advertising.
Sideburns? Don’t worry; they evidently go smashingly with flannel.
Do you rock an afro? Umm. OK, nevermind, afros are cool.
As for myself, I used to don my scalp with what I call the “post-‘Oceans’ Matt Damon” do. It’s your basic marginally short cut that rides up slightly toward the bangs. It screams “I’m not afraid of showing my face!” while remaining hat-hair resistant. For quite a while it seemed like the “Damane” and I were a fantastic match, until I realized something one day while gazing at myself in the mirror.
I look nothing like Matt Damon.
It was devastating, but true. In fact, I looked a lot more like Uncle Joey from “Full House,” pre- half-mullet and turtle-neck era, of course.
There is no sense in going for the hot-guy look if you aren’t socially recognized as a hot guy. Silly, charming and willing to cry while watching “Fern Gully” if need be — that I am — but I had no true scalp-rag method to show it. It’s about time I stopped being a lie.
So I went on a search. A heart-yearning quest for my perfect hairstyle. I invested in the finest combs, viewed an unhealthy amount of boy-band music videos and took a copious amount of photos of myself on my web cam.
Nothing seemed to fit. The floppy look was too floppy, the professional look was too standard, and “the Rachel” brought way too much attention to my chin line. I even considered a flat top — the funny part here is you think I’m joking.
I was ready to put my hair into corn rows and purchase a checking account’s worth of Fubu shirts when I saw him on TV — Drew Pickled. My childhood outline of a father figure. He seemed successful, rather confident, and he raised Angelica without actually killing her. Lose the hideous sweater vest and he had it all, all wound together in an orange-hued wavy side-part that even gave Rick Moranis the chills.
So I did it. I walked into my bathroom, gobbled up some hair product, watched my comb slide ever-so ceremoniously to the right. It had everything I needed: collectivism, persistence and, having been newly made single, a definite chick repellent. Home sweet dome.
That’s right, Logan, I’m a new man. A courageous man. An ambitious man. Maybe even the same man, only slightly combed to the left.
Happy Middle-Part Wednesday, everyone.
– steve.schwartzman@aggiemail.usu.edu.com