BALDNESS in Every Direction – My First Day as a Roofer!

Last Updated on September 27, 2017 by Robert Price

This is a true story, with many hair loss-related rants, twists, and turns for all you hairline geeks out there. I’m going for a Hunter Thompson, stream-consciousnesses vibe here, and I’m sure I’ll fall short of that lofty objective. 

Before I begin…

Warning – this post is brought to you by several IPA’s and several Ibuprofens and only about 3 hours of sleep. Okay? 

Good, as President Trump would say, enjoy!

A Day in The Life

I’ll get back to the baldness in a minute, don’t worry. But first I’ll tell you a little about my day and my life and my philosophy on things…

Or maybe not. 

I’ve decided that I’m going to do some grunt work this summer, for the first time in about five years.

Why?

Because I’m a freelance writer by trade, not by choice, just because I’m not really capable of doing anything else due to insomnia, primarily. I also have some issues with authority if you must know…

Anyway, freelance writing (especially on the web) is a horrible field. I’m sick of it and it’s time for a change. Don’t get into freelance writing unless you have absolutely no other options. I’ve never really been a go-getter, granted, and I don’t grovel or know how to sell “myself” effectively, even though I sell other people and their businesses on a daily basis. Go Figure. Unsurprisingly, I’m still a low-rent copywriter at 32.

But, I can feel the tide changing now…

A Man Can Use His Back or Use His Brains

I’m gonna quote Don Henley (and the late, great Glen Frey) again and the underrated song, “Doolin’ Dalton.” I also quoted Henley a few days ago in in my post, Hair Loss – The Heart of The Matter, if you’re interested. Both Henley and Frey were part of the Ronald Reagan, Norwood-1-for-life club, by the way. That’s not a club I’ll be joining anytime soon!  You probably won’t either, if you’re reading this, let’s face it.

Like Bill Doolin’, I’ve been working cheap, just bidin’ time. Soon I’m gonna laugh and say I’m going and leave this peaceful, but not prosperous life behind. At least I hope so.

This hair loss site is doing well, traffic and analytics wise. I’ve done a horrible job monetizing it and building my email list and have broken every rule in the book when it comes to promoting a blog. But…It’s not too late, that’s the good news. Expect interesting developments in the near future, a likely book, some (gasp!) affiliate links, and I may even eventually seek advertisers. One thing I promise never to do, though, is sell or promote any product or service that I wouldn’t either potentially use or recommend to a family member.

My Back is Just Fine, Thanks

I feel like working outside right now, and using my back while it’s still strong. So that’s what I’m gonna do. It was a paid workout, basically, and I like the great outdoors and sweating and doing masculine things a la Teddy Roosevelt, whom I’m reading a biography on as we speak. Not literally.

Labor.

It’s good for the soul.

Back to the Balding Roofers

bald low self-esteem, alcoholic pic

I signed up over at a local temp agency last Friday. So I certainly wasn’t expecting to get any work this soon, but I got a call around 7:30 this morning. The lady in charge said she had a job, doing a roof tear-out, about 30 miles away, and that she needed me to be there in an hour!

This was before my coffee, and I’m usually in a borderline-murderous mood before I have my coffee. But I was able to get the information, had some coffee, got the dogs out, dug up my old work boots and some ragged-ass gloves and got to work. I moved as quickly as I could and made it, about 20 minutes late, but I made it.

The two roofers running the show were in their mid to late 30s. NW 5 and NW 6, respectfully. Here’s my Norwood Scale post again for you, in case you need it. . . .

O’Tar Norwood, that sexy beast. He drew an oh-so-crude hairline “model” for his chart —  that ridiculous, simple, demoralizing chart. It was keeping me awake a few nights ago. I read Norwood’s actual study, printed in 1979, that every hack (and brilliant) hair restoration surgeon seem to reference at least once per minute. And I read it right before bed, which was a very bad idea. . . .

These roofers though…They were all bald or balding. The two others were temps, like me, in their 40s and 50s. Both were balding (NW 4ish) but not as bad as the other, younger, 30-something guys.

Thanks, Obama!

There was also a young kid on-site, whose sole responsibility was to make sure nobody fell off the goddamn roof. Thank you, Barrack Obama! Can you tell if I’m being serious or not? Good.

I asked him if he wanted to switch jobs but he declined.  He was probably 18-19 and rocked a bangy Oasis-like hairstyle. His hairline corners looked maybe a bit sparse, I recall thinking. Because I always notice such things.

One guy looked really good bald, too. Tall, he was probably 6’4” with nice facial features and a Statham, stubbly-style head shave and 1 or 2-day shadow to match. That’s a good look, no homo, or offense to any homos reading. I support the gay community unequivocally.

I was the only temp who put in an honest, full day’s work, and the only one with a full head of hair (if you consider Norwood 1.5-2 a full head of hair).

A Severe Case of the Mondays

I hate Mondays, like everyone else. I like men of the trades, they’re no-nonsense and hardworking, generally speaking. Like Lawrence from Office Space in a way. There wasn’t any catcalling from the roof, but several roofers complimented a female jogger’s backside unbeknownst to her.

I was tearing out this massive roof in the blistering heat, working my ass off right along the other two, full-time employees. Supposedly the main boss, who showed up intermittently throughout the day, recently fired everyone at the company, except for the NW 5 and 6 gentlemen, respectively.

One of the guys noted that we were likely the only all-white roofing crew in the state. Not sure if that’s an accomplishment but I’ll take it.

I worked hard. One temp was obese, the other had a bum leg. So I guess they did what they could do, sweeping up the shingles we pried off the roof. Some of those things were really stuck on there, too!

Don’t Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood

There was some levity on-site as well. We  busted out some “Don’t be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in Your Hood” quotes. Which was cool, that was maybe my favorite movie in 1996 when I was 12! So inappropriate. The Grandma was my favorite, and the crackhead with the cheeseburgers and the “offer” that couldn’t be refused. Classic. Look up a few clips on Youtube if you have a chance.

I also came to realize that men in the construction trades tend to go bald earlier than most other men. In my experience, anyway. I like construction workers. But they’re a hardworking, hard-living bunch. They do everything you’re not supposed to do, lifestyle-wise, if you’re looking to slow down the balding process. They often drink heavily, smoke, eat utter crap, etc. all. Hair loss is fundamentally genetic, but a hard-living lifestyle will bring you to your final destination on the Norwood scale at an accelerated rate.

If You’re Still Reading This, Cheers!

I’ll have more updates soon on construction workers, balding, my future, if I’m going to ever try to pitch these country songs I wrote years ago, what the hell I’m doing with my blog, and more. Stay tuned. I doubt anyone read this article, but cheers, if you made it this far! 

This was a rambling post, brought to you by several IPA and Ibuprofens as I said earlier. All my best. I have to be up at 3 AM tomorrow! This is post is scheduled already so I’m already up and assuming I haven’t fallen off a roof or crashed my car, I’m still here. And I’m eager for action and will post more blogs soon, no matter what my follicular future may bring. 

Like what you’ve read so far? Check out part II of this roofing/balding saga, the conclusion.

Posted in Personal Stories, Psychology + Motivation, Rants and Raves.

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