It’s said that students, or some, surpass their teachers. Although the idea is flattering, I’m not sure how this is possible. Granted, the teacher may give up one day on his/her development or a teacher may have a prodigy student destined for pure greatness, but people are constantly learning, constantly growing, and, by and large, teachers are older than their students. Therefore, math alone puts the odds of a student surpassing his/her teacher heavily against said student. This is true in my case.
I’ve mentioned before that Sun City resident and Sun Day columnist T.R. Kerth was my first journalism teacher. I had him my junior year of high school, and for the most part, I was a grade-A terrible student, which reflected nothing on his teaching skills but entirely on my academic skills: I had none and didn’t want any.
Despite my slacker approach to school, T.R. managed to instill in me the absolute root of my journalistic integrity. Experience, other teachers, and personal determination and growth helped me expand it over the years into a working practice (and I’m still learning), but T.R. gave me my start. In that act alone, you could say, he birthed my entire journalism career (Thank you, T.R.).
I won’t toot my own horn, but I’m quite good at journalism, but I don’t think I’m better or don’t think I’ve surpassed T.R., nor do I think it’s possible. He has a deeper understanding of the craft than I do, and he’s a far better writer than I am. I can only hope that one day I’m his equal. Furthermore, he’s got a lot of years on me!
There is one area in our slightly odd and removed relationship, though, that I not only surpass my former teacher but leave him in dust. In terms of our hair, I have T.R. beat hands down.
In the December 20 edition of the Sun Day, T.R.’s The View From Planet Kerth was about his hair grooming practices, hair loss, and all-around hair dysfunction and his disappointment of the aging male and the memory of what it was like to own a successful and long-flowing mane. He ultimately equated his hair to Nick Nolte’s mug shot. I can do better.
Women spend their entire lives perfecting their hair, shaping it, brushing it, combing it, styling it, fussing over it (often times all before they head out for the evening!). Men take a different approach: take a little off the sides and back … done. But when a man reaches a certain age in life and is dispirited by the amount of hairs on his pillow in the morning, his creativity puts women to shame and he becomes Vidal Sassoon.
Despite all the things Google will tell you, there are really only two ways to hide (or cope with) hair loss: Grow it long or cut it short. Either way, a man is doomed for failure.
I started losing hair in my 20s, about 15 years before my older brothers started losing theirs (each in their 40s). My oldest brother takes the cut-it-short approach to managing his hair loss and, in my opinion, pulls it off quite well. My other brother grows it long and combs it all back. Again, I think he pulls it off. Maybe it’s my face/head shape or all-around unruly hair, but neither works for me, and I’m left, more or less, in the running with Bozo. T.R. and Nick Nolte, eat your heart out.
I’ve reached a point in this editorial where I really can go no more with words and decided to let a picture speak for itself and finish off TR once and for all.
About a month ago, I held an advertising meeting, and when one of my ad reps walked in and saw me sitting at the table still wearing my hat, she, being old-fashioned, said, “Oh, if you were my ex-husband, I’d ….”
She paused here and made a swiping motion at my head.
Had she really knocked my hat off, what you see in the picture below would have sprang out!
1 Comment
Very, very funny article!! Chris, if there is ever any need for a Sacha Baron Cohen stand-in, you’re hired!!!!!