It Seemed Like a Good Idea... in Bangkok

I'm 43, but sometimes I act like I'm 18. The photo below shows me when I used to shave my head, but currently it is grown out in a greenish sort of bronze color.

How'd this happen? Funny story...

I had been working non-stop in Bangkok in the August heat and humidity buying silver jewelry and beads for the site and my shops. At some point it occurred to me that it would be funny to dye my hair from it's normal dark brown to a platinum blonde.

Why I thought this would be funny is now unclear, but it may have been the heat. I have been accused of having a strange sense of humor, and it should be noted that some of my jokes are known to miss the mark.

On my last night I finished up at about 8pm and headedout to find a late night hair salon. Late night "anything" is no problem in Bangkok. I got my hair bleached, but when the "stylist: tried to add back in the coloring, it burned my scalp and didn't take.

I liked the look-- that orange-blonde you see on skater punks who bleach their own hair. But I didn't like the dark eyebrows, so I had those done, too. The workers in the salon had no problem expressing their disapproval, which only served to encourage me. I felt so RAD!

My transformation from forty-something to "something else" was complete, and for just under $20 I felt I had gotten a great deal.

After flying 20 hours, giggling quietly to myself whenever I looked in the bathroom mirror, I approached my wife with giddy anticipation at the airport. She didn't recognize me at first, but when she did, it was not the welcome I expected.

Rather than the warm embrace and sweet words I'm usually greeted with, I was held at arms length as she screeched "What's wrong?" and "What happened!"

I tried to convince her that it was just a joke, but there was only horrified incredulity. She said I looked like a mutant albino (the eyebrows were especially hideous, she said). She said she didn't understand, and she said a few worse things than that, too. She asked me several times if this was some sort of "mid-life crisis." I really hate that phrase, and am I really middle-aged at 43?

I was dropped of at my car with instructions to "fix it" immediately. She told me the brand of hair dye to get at the store, and off I went.

Let me interject that I hadn't any experience with hair dye before this incident. I'm also a little color-blind, so maybe the bronze-brown color I picked to "fix it" wasn't the best choice.

After two rounds in the shower, my hair felt like steel wool, and had turned a strange shade of pumpkin. My wife was not amused, and over the next couple of days I got tired of telling my silly story. It turned out almost no one got my joke. Mostly, people just shook their heads and gave me the same uncomprehending look my wife had bestowed upon me.

After several days of incredulous looks, I sought professional help. $150 and three hours later, my hair and eyebrows were back to a somewhat lighter shade of brown, and the stylist threw in a haircut at no charge. I did not feel like I got a good deal.

For years I have seen young Euros and Japanese fall into the hippie trap while in Thailand. It is with no small amount of pleasure that I have imagined what happens when they turn up at home with tie dye Thai fisherman pants and hair crocheted into pseudo-dreadlocks. So maybe I should have known that what seems like a good idea in a strange, faraway place may not play so well at home. But I've learned a valuable lesson: what happens in Bangkok doesn't necessarily stay in Bangkok.

Postscript:
Over the succeeding month, I spent about two weeks in the equatorial sun of Indonesia. The dye washed out, and for some reason my hair is now a green/bronze, but I'm not touching a thing!