[The riddle's answer is at the end of this post]
My dad-- a.k.a., 'The Silver Fox'
My first hint came in India, when a serious eight year-old Phil told me, “Dad, you're not bald, you just have a really tall forehead.” I hadn't even thought about it, but, after checking in the mirror, I discovered that there was a very good reason that my hair had become increasingly easy to comb.
Then, a few years later, a friend introduced me to a barber shop cheap enough to indulge myself in a 'store-bought' trim. The old East Los Angeles shop actually looked new compared to it's owner, who proceeded to give me his standard '50's cut-- in the early '90's.
“You know, he told me loudly, “if you part your hair on the other side, you can cover up most of this here bald spot.”
“Bald spot?” I squeaked-- an octave or two higher than I'd have liked.
“Oh, yeah.” I mumbled, as I observed my high forehead approaching a bald spot -- both clearly visible in the mirror he'd lofted to give me a view.
My surprise, apparently, came primarily as a gift from heredity. For example, all my mother's sons are brilliant beacons of baldness. 'Male baldness pattern' is mostly inherited from one's maternal grandfather-- with some influence from one's father. Therefore, you can probably relax, dear sons, your grandfathers both kept their hair. However, my dear daughters' sons...
Have I missed my my top thatching? Not much-- except for the lack of insulation in winter and extra sunscreen in summer. Nor do I mourn as the brittle final product of each fading follicle passes into history; and as I slowly pass from balding-- to bald.
Me, a.k.a. 'The Shiny Fox'
Answer to the riddle:
'As a lame man to his cane, so is a bald man to his cap.'
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baldness
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