The other morning I awoke to find my hair part inexplicably on the wrong side of my head. It turns out that this could have implications of ginormous proportions. There is, as you may know, a meticulously detailed and frankly self-possessed theory about hair-parting out there called, descriptively, The Hair Part Theory. And when I say its out there, I mean its really out there. According to it, my part, which sat unwavering on the left-ish side of my head for most of my life because of a choice either made by my naturally-occurring cowlicks, or by my mother in my youth, says a lot about me. According to The Hair Part Theory, a left hair parting is indicative of a person dominated by the left hemisphere of the cerebrum, and thus confident, logical and strongly linguistic. It says that women with a left-part are particularly likely to succeed in business and politics. We are perceived as intelligent, in charge and reliable, though we can also be perceived as too masculine. Hillary Clinton, Margaret Thatcher and Christine Todd Whitman all are left-parters. So now I don’t belong to this exclusive club, as my hair decided, all on its own, to start parting itself on the right.
They say that right-parting men can create an uncomfortable image, which can lead to social shunning, and even unusual, eccentric behavior. They point out that not only Rush Limbaugh and Robert Kennedy are right-parters, but so is Al Gore. The most telling example they cite to support the right/left hemispheric influence in hair-parting is that Clark Kent parted his hair on the nurturing, non-linear and visually-oriented right, while Superman’s hair was parted on the logical, mathematical and language-oriented left. Who knew? Unfortunately, the authors of this theory have little insight to offer about non-parters or center-parters. They just say those people are perceived as pretty neutral. I’m disappointed in this because I was looking forward to using this fascinating theory as a tool to help me decide between the left-parted Hillary and the non-parted Barack.
But alas it is not to be. I do know that from here on in, I’m going to pay a lot more attention to everyone’s parts – and I mean that in just about every one of the entendres you can think of. Ever since I discovered the Hair Part Theory, I’ve been doing a mental inventory of all my friends and their parting ways. As it turns out, I have a lot of friends who are engineers – civil, electrical, mechanical and robotics, but not, unfortunately any of the choo-choo variety – and most of them have non-parts. Even my brother is an engineer (non-part). Oh, and speaking of engineers, we are one step closer to getting my elevator built, as my engineer friend Jim (non-part) stopped by yesterday to take more measurements. I can’t wait! Its going to be a real Gilligan’s Island affair, only without any coconut hulls or palm fronds, and that bodes well for me as the fancier the engineering in my life, the worse the results.
But the last word on flip-flopping hair parts perhaps has come from my friend Heidi. She’s terribly interested in all sorts of whack-o theories and medical practices. Her primary physician for a long time was a phrenologist (they’re the ones who diagnose your health problems by reading the bumps on your head), until she found an Intuitive Healer, who just intuits the causes for her maladies. The Intuitive told her that she tore her Achilles tendon because she was grieving for a lost love. Or something like that. Who am I to say one theory is any more whack-o than another, given that I’ve seen a monk jump while sitting down, and know all about quantum tunneling and Schrödinger’s cat? In any case, Heidi posits that because hair is a symbol of luxury, the role of luxury in my life is about to change. Lets just hope its for the better.