Mutant HairMutant Hair

I've never been one of those guys who obsesses about my appearance. As a rule I am well groomed, clean, and hygienic. Not vain, but at 45 years old, not unpleased with my overall physical appearance. All things considered I have weathered the years fairly well.

I am aware however, of physical changes that come with being a man of my age. Not the aches and pains, or even the wrinkles. Those are things I expect and accept. What drives me crazy is hair growth.

As a young boy I was fascinated by my grandfather's eyebrows. Ungroomed doesn't really describe them. They were out of control. Random hairs extending far from the nest like crawling ivy on the face of an ancient statue. I wondered when they took on a life of their own, because I had seen many pictures of him with "normal" brows. I can now figure that it was sometime in his early to mid forties.

A few years ago, my son began teasing me about my ear hair. Upon looking in the mirror to see what he found so amusing I was astonished to see that I did have entirely too much. I thought to myself, "Damn, when did that happen?" " That is a lot of fucking ear hair!" So off I went to buy one of those handy all-in-one grooming tools with an attachment specifically designed to knock back the ear forest. It worked well and I was pleased that my ears had been restored to a youthful appearance. In the months that followed however, I was a little disheartened that I had to use it so frequently.

Then one morning about a year ago, as I was shaving I became aware of hair growing on my right ear. Not inside my ear mind you, but growing straight out of the top.

No big deal you might say. Well you didn't see it. And to merely call it a hair falls way short of an adequate description. First of all it was jet black and as thick as a piece of wire and no less than a full inch tall. I say tall because it pointed straight up. I stared at it in disbelief for minutes, wondering how long it had been there, and why I hadn't noticed it earlier. I thought of all the people I had been in contact with recently and wondered how many were just too polite to say anything about it much less give in to laughter.

Breaking free of my trance, I grabbed the tweezer and gripped hairzilla just above the root and gave a good tug. To my horror it fought to remain affixed and my entire ear stretched upward! Realizing this was no ordinary follicle I changed tactics. This time gripping at the top and coiling the strand around the tweezer. Once securely held, I snapped upward, certain that this method would extract the hair...root and all. I was wrong. It slid through the tweezers grip like a piece
of ribbon. The result was a tightly curled, thick black, hair, perched atop my ear like a burned curly fry.
Time to break out the big guns.

In the end, the hair, as mighty a it was, proved no match for my trusty grooming tool. Victory was mine. I finished shaving and closely examined myself and left the bathroom satisfied that I found no other mutant growths. Again, at the end of the day I looked closely in the mirror and was relieved that all was as it should be.