If only overcoming baldness were as easy as waiting for Bald Bull's Bull Charge and thereupon jabbing him in the gut. Actually, that was pretty hard to do, too, but you get the point.
Nintendo. Oh, my hair-headed salad days...
Norman Mailer wrote a book titled, with ironic modesty, The Fight; an account of the Thrilla in Manila, the 1975 Ali vs. Frazier World Heavyweight Championship bout. Referring to the trials and tribulations of squaring off against hair-loss as simply ‘the fight’, is much more of an understatement.
Today at the gym, in the wall-mirror, my eyes are locked on my own eyes, not the thinness of my hair. I am slowly fighting, a 15 lbs. weight in each hand, as if against sixteenth-speed under-water ninjas; swinging, jabbing, upper-cutting, working the body, pushing the dumbbells evenly toward the ceiling like victory; going through the motions again, like rinse, lather, repeat.
I am compensating. My plan against baldness: Rope-A-Dope.
(PICTURE: screen-capture from "Mike Tyson's Punch-Out".)
