The Election Nobody Votes In

Hope you vote. I do, every time, even on the upcoming Tuesday, April 6, when I know hardly anyone will vote. Worse than an August election. Just checked the county-wide ballot online. The only candidates on the ballot are seven people running for the school board. No political affiliations are given. Six are female. Four of them, in their professional "candidate" photographs, have dyed blond hair.

 

Nothing against it, except that if you are the sort who conforms to what every other under-60 white woman in the suburbs and exurbs and countryside is doing by bottle-blonding your hair like a TV personality, even if it looks nice I don't want to vote for you.

 

I carefully read all the candidates' biographies and statements so that I would be an informed voter. Only two of the candidates had experience on a school board. These same ones wanted what I want from a school-board member: Someone with an educational background and positive plans. 

 

They were the two women on the slate who were not dyed blond. [A rude observation that should go here has been withheld.] Coincidence, I guess.

I Want to Be Cute

Before	After
(Note: I had just removed a hat.)	Ninety minutes later.

Fallen in love at first sight: 48 percent of men have; only 28 percent of women. (Citation.) From the back of the pack I've been watching as men at events -- middle-aged events such as networking, singles, and hikes -- go straight for the blondes, falling in starry-eyed love right there in front of me. Kitchen-sink bleach-bottle blonde with an inch of dark roots doesn't matter, weathered skin and a voice like a foghorn don't matter. I'm fitter, thinner, better educated, very cute, or, in a tight dress, a ringer for an exotic Russian spy. Doesn't matter. In Jefferson County, 7 of  every 10 white women can be classified as blond because they've been quicker to learn that blondes have more fun. I've examined this issue from every angle, and it is what it is. A woman who hasn't clearly and deliberately altered her natural appearance might as well be a man.

My natural hair color resembles 80-percent-cacao chocolate. I've never colored it. Furthermore it's short. I think I'm wonderful. But, maybe it's just wintertime, I consulted my hairdresser, who thought I'd make a terrible blonde and suggested highlights instead. I made an appointment for the very next day.

Now my hair is more like a peanut butter cup. Come hither, gentlemen! Let me sort YOU out by your hairlines.