It's Just Hair, People

It was a genuinely warm day today. 80 degrees of pristine humid free sun. After I dropped Hollaback off after work and parked in my garage, I walked the three plus blocks back to my apartment building. When the summer weather rears its head, my neighbors congregate on the sidewalks. The lawn chairs come out. Impromptu domino boards are set up. Stickball is played in the streets. People lounge and congregate on building steps. Everyone is loose and easy. The streets become our park.

Walking through this plethora of humanity to get home is like running the gauntlet sometimes. At the top of the block where I turn to head down to Riverside Drive, I often encounter large groups of young men who can't let anyone pass without a smart ass comment. I've heard every line in the book and if I can't come up with a sharp retort, I'll simply give them a smile in return. It's all in good natured fun. Today as I rounded the corner, one of the fellows yelled at me, "Is it true blondes have more fun?!" Aw Jesus, that's an old one. In the spirit of things, however, I replied, "Not like you'll ever know!" His compadres laughed. Good times.

In all seriousness, that's an interesting question. Do blondes have more fun? While born a natural blonde, I have worn every shade of hair color on the planet. I tried platinum blonde for awhile (roots come in every week--very bad); fiery red and strawberry blonde and russet brown. I tried dark and light brunette and once I dyed my hair black because I was falsely under the impression that it would make me look Italian.I've had every shade of blonde and even tried blue, pink and neon green (in the 80s, OK?). Time and time again, I come back to a champagne blonde. The curtains don't exactly match the rug these days but that's what Brazilian waxing is for.

So do blondes have more fun? You bet your ass they do.