And Then, Suddenly: The Silver Fox!, or OMG I Have Hair!

Hair, someone told me once, was a sure sign of life. I.e., if you’re growing hair, you are alive. (There are other signs but hair is a definite yes-I-live). I’ve even heard that any mole with hair growing out of it––mole as in the things on your skin, not the things that dig holes in your yard––is almost certainly not a suspicious mole, because hair is a sign of life.

But here I’m talking mostly about head hair, which I lost pretty much all of to chemo. As I’ve said before, if I’d been younger, I’d have been devastated. My hair has been my obsession, probably bordering on fetish. I’ve had all kinds of hair:

This is my 1982 hair. (I’m the one on the left, smartass. The one on the right is George RR Martin. Just FYI.)

This is my 1986 hair. (I’m the one on the right, smartass…