Yes, I am Bald!

Boy, was that fun!

I left Logos at 6 and walked around the corner to DeVere's Pub where the shaving was taking place.  Every time someone was finished, a cheer went up from the crowd watching.

I had to wait for Ned and for the photographer, both of whom were scheduled for arrive around 6:30.  There were lots of people there to cheer us on. There was Lee Riggs, of the band Riggity Jig, a Celtic band that we love.  I handed him my camera and he took most of the photos for this entry.

Ned arrived and changed into his Seymour shirt, to match my Toby shirt.  This was our "shaving uniform."

There were Ellen and Shelly, the most photographed couple in Davis.  Shelly said "Some people will do anything to get attention."  She also took one last opportunity to run her hair through our heads.

Nancianne was there too, but there to have her own head shaved.  She was waiting for her family to arrive to cheer her on.

There was also Susan, from Logos; Zoe Tilton, MD, one of the doctors I used to work for when I worked and a few other people.  When the photographer arrived, it was time to get the show on the road.  When I sat down with Ned and looked at the bank of cameras aimed at us, I was so overwhelmed I forgot to get my cell phone out so I could take a picture from MY side.

Ned had them shave our heads into mohawks first.  It worked OK for Ned, but my hair was too long for it to really look the way he hoped it would.

So take it off...take it all off...and they did.

(photo by Marta)

When it was over, we got to take a look at ourselves in the mirror.

Then we went into the pub for dinner (beer and fish 'n' chips for me), after which we had to go to Atria to show my mother.  Thank goodness Marta was taking a video when we knocked on the door because the look on her face when she saw me should definitely have been recorded for posterity.  She looked like someone had just shoved a bag of dog feces in her face, she turned away from me and hid behind the door, in the dark kitchen.  She didn't want to turn around and look at me again.

Turns out she thinks Ned looks fine because he's a man but I'm a woman and she can't stand to look at me.  Several times through the short time we were there, she glanced over at me, grimaced and looked away again, though eventually she did accept it.  She's going to have to get over this real quick because we're spending the day tomorrow driving around looking at wildflowers.  (She says that's OK because wild flowers can't SEE me like people can).

So what does it feel like to be bald.  Not cold, as everyone told me it would.  In fact the breeze blowing actually felt good, until I got in a draft at home and then put on one of my new knit caps.

But it's finally done.  Three more donations came in today, so I don't know what our actual final total was yet.  I suppose I'll wait until St. Baldrick's gets all the paper work figured out.  But it might be close to (but not quite) $3500.

We done good.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

The good news is...after tomorrow you don't ever have to hear about St. Baldricks or shaving my head ever, ever again.  The time is upon us and tomorrow's entry will not be "Today at Logos," but will be about our adventures in Baldrickland, becoming bald, and my mother's reaction.

I realized how big this had all become when we went to review a show tonight.  The first person we saw was Mitch Agrus, beloved old actor of Sacramento theater.  Mitch is getting more feeble and is in a wheelchair now.  My colleague Jeff brought him to the theater early so he could sit in his chair off in a corner and let people "pay court" to him, because everyone knows him and loves him.

I went to say hello and he said "I thought you were going to shave your head." I assured him that I will be bald tomorrow and then explained to the people around him what I was going to do, because they thought I might be having my head shaved prior to a medical procedure.

I went into the theater and sat down and the next person I saw was LaRue Carnes, wife of Sacramento News and Review critic, Jim Carnes.  LaRue was asking me questions about what was going to happen and about St. Baldrick. She was impressed to hear that we had raised more than $3,000.

Jeff came in to ask when the event was taking place.  I told him and thanked him for the article he wrote about us for The Enterprise, which resulted in the neighbors contributing $250 for the event.

At intermission, Patti Roberts, critic (and fierce Word with Friends competitor) came over and started stroking my hair and said she wanted to say goodbye to it.

After Patti left, the woman sitting in the row in front of us turned around and asked if something was going to happen to my hair tomorrow.  I explained about St. Baldrick and our project.

When we got home, my cell phone was ringing.  It was Ned making arrangements for tomorrow.  He decided we should wear the Toby and Seymour shirts he had made at Christmas.  Toby and Seymour were our dogs when the kids were living at home.  Ned made t-shirts for Walt and me with the dogs on them.  He wants to borrow Walt's shirt to wear and I will find my shirt and those will be our "team shirts."

I asked if he was going to shave his beard because someone on Facebook said she'd make another donation if Ned would keep his beard.

I also checked our total and found that Connie Dees, who had issued the Challenge Grant had made a donation, as per her promise, for the $100 and $25 donations that had been made in the last week or so.

I think we've finally maxed out on friends who are willing to support us and so our total will be $3,053, which ain't bad for someone who hoped to raise $500.

So I'm all set and I have my knit caps to take in case it's cold tomorrow (though at least at the start, I want to answer questions about why my head is bald)

Now just work the shift at Logos, show up at DeVere's pub, and take lots of pix to fill this space with tomorrow.

And then I promise not to bother you about this ever, ever again!

Before

You Like Me...You Really LIKE Me!

It was a long time ago.  Decades, actually.  I don't even remember what started it, but there was a neighborhood kerfuffle.  Nasty words were said and I was told (among other things) "Nobody in this neighborhood likes you."

I had been so happy to move to a smaller town, envisioning coffee klatches with my neighbors, borrowing sugar, block parties, etc.  After being told nobody liked us (because we didn't have a well manicured yard), with my perennial low self esteem, it was just the deterrent I needed to avoid the neighbors.  

At that time, the mayor lived across the street and threw a big neighborhood party every year.  I couldn't face the neighbors that year and didn't go, because I knew nobody liked me.  It might have blown over and I might have gone the following year, but she died during the year and there were no more parties.

There was a brief detente the year there was a terrible traffic accident that set a house on fire and killed a pet...and nearly killed a child.  The whole neighborhood came together to work on the traffic problem, but once a decision had been made, we went back to our homes again.  No coffee klatches here.

There was the time, years after the incident, when I went to a parents meeting with someone who was a neighbor.  She sat as far away from me as she could, and when information needed to be passed to parents instead of calling me or knocking on the door, she put a notice in my mail box.

And then there was David's death, when we had cards and letters and food flooding in from everyone in town, except our neighbors.  I think one person in the neighborhood expressed condolences.  Two or three came around after Paul's death.

I have jokingly referred to myself as the neighborhood pariah and accepted that long ago.  It doesn't sting as bad as it used to.  But 42 years without feeling a part of the neighborhood....

Today I was working in my office and the front doorbell rang.  Walt went to answer the door.  He was gone awhile and then came into my office and handed me a big envelope. He said it had been a neighbor at the door.  On the envelope was written "Bev and Ned."  "How nice," I thought.  "They must have contributed to the St. Baldrick's fund," and was touched.

Then I opened the envelope and I started crying.  It was a card signed by all of our neighbors.  Added to the card was written:

As your neighborhood friends, we support you and Ned in your commitment to bring awareness to cancer research.

The card was filled with money.  $140 in cash and $110 in checks.  I couldn't believe it.

I raced out of the house to catch the woman who had brought the card.  I found her in her driveway and I gave her a big hug, tears running down my face.  I have never been touched by anything so much in long time.

With those donations, Ned and I have now collected more than $3,000. If I was humbled when we hit $2,000 I can't even explained how I feel tonight. 

In addition to this wonderful donation from our neighbors, a package came from Mary Z, who comments on this journal periodically.  She sent me 4 caps she had knitted (so my mother doesn't have to see my bald head).

People are so incredibly thoughtful, kind, and generous.  They say I'm "brave" to get my head shaved.  Heck, that's easy and it will grow back, but all of these wonderful people who have given me support are the special ones.  Two more days till shaving day!