Hair Abuse = Corruption?

Half Dead Guy just can’t get his folically-challenged head around the corruption charges against Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich.

Coming from a long line of early-to-reveal their scalp men, I realize the importance of not wasting a nice, full head of hair. It pains me to see someone waste their hair like this. I had to find out what we all suspect is true – Is there a connection between hair abuse and moral turpitude?

Case 1: Rod Blagojevich

Charged With: Trying to sell a senate seat and [bleeping] saying a lot of potty words

Picture Proof:

OK, that wasn’t fair. The last picture was taken right after he got out of the shower.

Case 2: Ohio Representative James Traficant

Charged With: Taking Bribes, Racketeering, etc.

Picture Proof:

Traficant had to take the dead animal off his head when he was booked into Summit County Jail, but was allowed to keep it in his cell - never know when you’re going to need to look your best in jail.

Case 3: Ohio Representative Bob Ney

Charged With: Accepting cash and casino chips for services

Picture Proof:

Casino chips? Might as well have been paper carnival ticket from an arcade. Maybe they were out of lottery tickets.

Maybe the results aren’t 100% conclusive but this is a good start. HDG needs a few more data points and my guess is the charges will keep rolling in and you can bet that I’ll keep watching for hair abuse.

Maybe we should adopt the wig rule forcing politicians and judges to wear wigs like these happy guys:

That certainly would level the playing field and let honest bald guys run for office for a “real change”.

MenoPorsche

By Guest Contributor: Not Quite Half Dead Guy (S.S.)

MenoPorsche (MEN.uh.por.shuh; MEN.uh.porsh) n.

1. Angst and anxiety exhibited by some men upon reaching middle age, especially when those feelings manifest in the purchase of a sports car or an affair with a younger woman.

2. A sports car purchased by a man undergoing a mid-life crisis.

3. This strange coinage refers to the fictional symptoms experienced by rich, urban middle-aged men who try to fight off a mid-life crisis onset, by lavishly buying a speedster car, ride in it and drive off the anxiety and lack of motivation one goes through in his 40s!

Also: meno-Porsche. [Blend of menopause and Porsche.]

When Half Dead Guy contacted me a few weeks ago and asked how my "MenoPorsche" was going I had to think about that. Being newly minted as "Not Quite Half Dead Guy" I realized that he was right and I have, in fact, experienced Meno-Porsche. I have come upon that great intersection called mid-life, but am lacking the “crisis”. Not Quite Half Dead Guy has a great family with two daughters and a wife who I wouldn’t even think of trading for a 25-year old trophy girlfriend. So I wondered whether my new Porsche purchase was truly a “Mid-Life Crisis” or just simply a “Mid-Life” phase.

I remember fondly my post-college years in my early twenties when I owned a fast car, and drove it that way. At that time it was not only my daily ride, but something that would quickly top out at 120 mph thanks to a Chrysler rev-limiter, which I actually tested 2 times (the 2^nd time was just to confirm the first). As if that need for speed wasn’t enough, my car was complemented by a motorcycle that went even faster (I won’t say how fast because my 7 year old can read).

After I got married and was blessed with two children the importance of a “fun” car that just happened to redline at 120 mph diminished. The sports car was traded down for a functional vehicle that would comfortably fit two car seats for those days when it was my turn to take the kids somewhere.

The practical daily driver vehicles are paid for with many miles still to go (hopefully), but my memory of some fun was recently fulfilled with the purchase of a powerhouse Porsche 911 with 350 bhp (look it up) that puts my early 20’s car to shame in looks, handling and power. Now, I get to experience the thrill of a real sports car again - on good weather days. I recently took it to a track in Michigan for a PCA (Porsche Club of America) to see what I was missing on the street (i.e. couldn't get away with on the streets). Plus, I get to share the fun with my family thanks to the back seats which fit the kids' booster seats. Nothing says "Daddy loves you!" more than their heads plastered to the headrest when the light turns green.

So, was my Porsche purchased as part of a crisis, or was it just part of my cyclical human experience? Is it fair to say that my life's balance is like the stock market, housing industry, or unemployment? Maybe feeling twenty years old every 20 years isn’t such a bad thing? Just As long as you aren’t replacing your wife, job or life responsibilities with a toy car.