Wednesday, November 28, 2007

My Brother's Hair

I've got eight million blog posts screaming to be written but when I came across this photo from Thanksgiving last year, I knew I had to clear this off my desk.

My brother, Robert, is a George Clooney character. Women love him and men want to emulate him. Growing up, my friends would swoon and say, "How's Hot Rob?" and even my parents, to this day, strive to impress him. He's a genuine modern-day swashbuckler. Give him the right car and poof! He's 007.

In his SoCal youth, Rob was a surfer/skateboarder and later dabbled in modeling before giving it up. "I felt stupid," he'd said, "All that fake smiling, not for me." Later, he became a successful furniture designer/builder before he became what he is today, a Land Baron. (He will scoff modestly and roll his eyes at this, solidifying his coolness.)

Robert is funny, smart, caring and generous, not to mention wildly popular. At a recent reunion wedding, another heartthrob character, Mike, recalled how Rob would walk with a strange hot-young-girl-shaped tumors growing all over his body. "It was amazing. Literally, one would be stuck to his neck, another on his elbow, another grabbing his ankle ... it was unbelievable. We just watched in awe."

Somewhere along the way, as his peers faced dreaded hair loss, Rob's hair grew. And grew. And GREW.

After the move to Mississippi, he let go the slick, suited dealmaker and became the shaggy hunter and land conservationist. He grew a goatee and that went gray. And the hair on his head didn't necessarily grow longer, it simply became BIGGER. Cutting it seems to worsen the problem. Evidently, it takes a uniquely gifted and incredibly patient hairdresser with a special thinning tool. Not a ton of those in the Deep South, apparently.

These days, a cap must be worn on his head at all times and usually is. When dining out with the family, Rob and his wife were trying to teach their son good Southern manners. They told little Robbie that his cowboy hat had to come off as they were in an eating establishment.

"But why doesn't Daddy take his hat off?" he'd asked.
"Because Daddy will scare the waitress and then we won't get our food, that's why," said Rob.

Rob's had a bountiful life thus far and the latest evidence is coming out his scalp. Fun to watch. It's like having a real, live Chia Pet for a sibling.

5 comments:

susie said...

Oh my lord. He's the only man I know who's hairline seems to be moving down his forhead as opposed to away.

Does the hat say John Deere or "No Fear"? With Rob it could go either way.

Kath said...

I just love your family stories!!

Welcome back chiquita :-)

ClizBiz said...

Actually, Rob wears the same hat always. It is black, emblazoned with the initials: RMAC, the name of his property company, the initials of he and his wife, MaryAnn. He speaks for no one but himself these days, ever the individualist.

hotdrwife said...

I kid you not, my brother's hair does just about the same thing. He tried growing it out, but it grew full, not long. It got huge and busy, just like Rob's.


(aaaaaaaaaand yes, Rob is hot indeed!)

Heidi's heart said...

Heather, you have a way of making anyone into a god or goddess. You've done it again! What a loving tribute to your dear brother.