Hey! You're Bald

If anyone out there is actually reading this blog, you may be wondering where the title "Hey! You're Bald" comes from. It's a great story, actually, and probably my ace of trump suit when it comes to sharing experiences at a party.

On a particularly calm afternoon in September of 2004, I was sitting alone in my apartment. My feet and hands were cold, and the sun shining on the playground in the courtyard of the complex was calling my name. I grabbed my guitar and headed outside to soak up some sun.

I sat down on a picnic table next to the playground and started picking some notes on my guitar. Within a few minutes I caught the attention of two little girls, one about the age of 5 and the other about 3. They slowly wandered over to the picnic table, obviously engaged by my amazing music. Soon they were standing about 5 feet away, both of them staring at me in amazement.

Now that I had some fans listening, I picked up the beat and really got into it. I played my best song and splashed in my best improvisational riffs. I took my fans on a rollercoaster of emotions by playing soft... then loud... then soft again... then really loud. Finally, I finished off the song with a huge open E-chord blasting out of my Martin acoustic guitar. Perfect!

As my arm remained extended, signaling to my fans that my masterpiece was over, I got a response. The older girl looked me square in the eye and the first words out of her mouth were, "Hey! You're Bald." Not a word about my rhythm, dynamics, or melodies. Not even a "nice job" or "where'd you learn to play?" In confusion, I mustered up the only thing I could think of to say.

"I know that. Do you know how fast I can cut through the wind with this thing?" pointing to my huge widow's peak. "Let's see." she said, indicating with her hand that she wanted me to run a wind-sprint around the playground. "I'll do it later." I replied, and walked back into my apartment.