By Anne McKee / guest columnist
The Meridian Star
About eight years ago I became a blonde. I’ve always admitted that there are many natural blondes in my family – I just don’t happen to be one of them. But when our first grand was born, she came out with a head full of platinum blonde hair, so I figured now was the time, if I ever had blonde tendencies.
It seems I was an expert in the blonde illusion, because not long ago I came across a picture of me as a little 3-year-old brunette. When I showed the photo to my little blonde granddaughter (who was 5 years old at the time), I asked her, “Who is this in the picture?”
She studied it intently and I finally said, “It’s me … it’s Me Maw!”
She said, “No-o-o-o Me Maw, you’ve got blonde hair like me!”
“Oops!” I gulped, “I may have gone too far!”
But you can never go too far in the kingdom of blonde-ness, can you ladies? I laugh heartily at all of the “dumb-blonde” jokes knowing that I’m smart! (1) How do you make a blonde laugh on Wednesday? Tell her a joke on Monday. (2) I offered a blonde a penny for her thoughts … she gave me change. (3) Why did the blonde tip-toe past the medicine cabinet? So she wouldn’t wake up the sleeping pills. Read more blonde jokes at http://www.free-funny-jokes.com.
Yes, my blonde roots are carefully cultivated, but my brain is still brunette Sometimes I feel as if I am some type of blonde-undercover-special-forces. You know experiencing the blonde-world, but knowing I can return to brunette-ness anytime I want. Yeah.
Now, I’ve never really believed all of the dumb-blonde hype. Why, there are plenty of smart blondes. There’s, uh, well, there is, ah, Hillary Clinton, Martha Stewart, Lady Gaga, and, hmm, Jessica Simpson. Well, let me re-think the smart blonde stuff and I’ll get back to you on that.
I’ve also noticed doors are opened for me by the gentlemen (more than when I was a brunette) and I am greeted with more smiles by just about everyone – especially children. I’m still researching the obvious glee of the children – perhaps they think I am their Fairy God Mother or The Tooth Fairy.
We all know someone who will search and search until they have found something (anything!) to pay you a compliment with (dear people). One such man at my former employment stammered one day, “Anne, Anne you’re getting more b-b-blonde!” Well, I smiled and shook my head in the affirmative thinking – does he think this is natural – guess so?
Actually my coworkers would take Monday morning bets whether I was a platinum blonde, a golden blonde, ash blonde, or any number of the shades of blonde-ness — because I have been all of the above and I am still experimenting! One thing for sure – I will be some sort of a blonde from here on out. That ol' saying, "Blondes have more fun” is REALLY true — at least I have found it to be; or maybe I am past the time in my life when I over worry about what people think of me or say about me. I figure that’s their problem, not appreciating this wonderful gorgeous blonde (with the brunette brain) that I have become!
But my biggest surprise, I suppose, on being blonde is the impression that most strangers have as to the description of my person. By this I mean in my former vocation I met many people for only one time or maybe two, three times at the most. Our next encounter was normally by telephone and B. B. (before blonde) my description to our telephone operator would be on this order, “the middle-aged lady at the first office” or “the tall lady up front." As a blonde, however, it was “the blonde in the first office” and more often “the friendly blonde up front!” This last one was my person favorite! Go figure!
A couple of years ago, I decided to offer some additional training for three of our new employees. I invited the three into my office and went into great detail concerning some of their job duties. One looked out the window, one looked at the floor, but the third one, ah, this new employee intently seized upon every word, or so I thought.
After the training session, this third employee asked the following question. “Miss Anne, just what color is your hair anyway?” That was one of my color experimenting weeks, so I said, “Blonde.”
He said, “Oh.”
As I stated at the beginning of this blonde narrative, I have many relatives who are natural blondes and I just don’t happen to be one of them. But during the last five years, many times, I have been mistaken for several of my true-blonde relatives. “Oh, you look just like the Calvert girls,” (they were all blondes) commented more than one old friend of the family.
I have learned to smile (a blonde smile) and answer, “Why, thank you very much.”
Anne B. McKee is a writer and storyteller. Visit her website at www.annemckee.net.