Dear Solomon - Maybe You Should Make an Infomercial

Dear Solomon,

Today, you can buy a solution for almost every problem. A quick dial of an 800 number, and a life-changing product will be delivered to your doorstep within days. I can’t help but notice how interested others are in my solving my problems, restoring my health, making my life easier, and in fixing my hair. That’s right, my hair. In fact, the only ones more interested in my fixing my hair problems are my two teenage daughters – and their interest is mainly self-preservation. At 14 and 16 it’s possible to die of embarrassment.

My personal perspective about hairstyle is decidedly Calvinistic, and unfortunately, I am not one of the predestined. Still, great hair and the latest styles hold a fascination, much like the feelings that sweep over me when watching a contortionist. I can’t imagine experiencing it, but it’s mesmerizing to observe.

"As Seen on TV” hair products fall into one of four types. Volumizers, like Bumpits and special hair growth stimulating shampoos, are intended to create the illusion of more hair. Styling aids, like Hairigami, the Revo styling brush, and the Hair Zinger promise to transform the user with amazing styles from sophisticated to sexy. Many of these products come with a detailed instruction book or video that makes sense to the pre-ordained, but is gibberish to me.

The category of hair products that tempts me are the “Disaster Remedy” products. The disaster of split ends is discussed by a fabulous male stylist with a thick European accent. He describes his treacherous encounters with split ends with the gravity of a Dr. Salk. His invention, the Split Ender promises to eliminate the scourge of split ends forever. Greyban, a root concealer pen is essential for covering up pesky gray tresses. Hair removal products like Smooth Away and the Facial Hair Trimmer promise to break the cycle of endless shaving, plucking, and tweezing. Most promise a “painless” remedy, a relative term, as anyone who was suckered into buying an Epilady can attest.

A very long time ago I went to bed with a wad of gum in my mouth. My subconscious mind, unaware of the peanut butter solution, directed my body to the kitchen where I proceeded to snip the gum out of my hair. When I awoke the next morning, my conscious mind assessed the situation and came to the conclusion that Mom was going to kill me. I decided a baseball cap would look especially good with my outfit that day. Mom, in the kitchen, was contemplating the loose hairs scattered about the kitchen floor. She had little time to speculate. I arrived for breakfast, baseball cap strategically positioned over the exposed area of my scalp. I’ll never forget the look on Mom’s face as her face sunk into her hands. The rest of that morning is a blur.

My next hair disaster didn’t occur until my senior year in high school. I was a fashion late bloomer. My older sisters were “frosting” their hair and somehow I was swept up in the potential of sporting a sophisticated new hairstyle. Val and Rebecca gave my hair a frosting. I liked it! I became almost giddy with admiration for my new look. I decided to jump all the way in and add a “perm.” Sixty of my hard earned dollars were wasted at the salon on what I now refer to as the “Great Hair Calamity of 1982.”

The interaction of the chemicals used to produce the highlights and the chemicals used for the perm leeched all the color from the highlighted portions of my hair leaving it GREY. The timing couldn’t be worse. It was a week before my senior pictures, and I had a head full of gray hair. The hair professionals decided that my pelt was badly damaged – additional attempts at chemical restoration were not advised. “Did I want my hair to fall out?” Looking back, I should have replied with a hearty “Yes!” A flowery scarf tied about my bald head, and sympathetic glances would have been more desirable than the attention I received from my schoolmates.

I washed my hair daily with a brown rinse (temporary color) to cover up the gray. I also had a mess of a perm to deal with. Perms require very little maintenance; I could just run a pick through it. The stunning results were that I resembled a poodle – one that desperately needed an appointment at Petsmart. When my curls finally grew out, I was hesitant to try anything permanent.

The temporary solution was the curling iron. I bought fat ones and skinny ones. Some came with steamers, and others were coated with precious metals. I studied the instructions and observed my sisters, my friends, and even my sisters’ friends. No amount of studying can compensate for a lack of natural ability. I was rarely successful. When I stared at my mirror image I was confused about which way to turn. Somehow each twist produced unexpected results. A pattern may have been emerging, but I couldn’t grasp it. I felt like I was parallel parking a 24 foot Suburban with a camping trailer hitched to the bumper.

Later, as a young mother with two toddler boys, I entered the age of hot curlers. I jumped on the bandwagon late, but made up for it by purchasing two sets of CONAIR Hot Setter Pro's. They were much easier to use than curling irons. I settled into a routine. Thanks to CONAIR, I was able to keep the big hair look well into the 90’s, long after it was passé. I secured my loose, bouncy mane with AQUANET EXTRA HOLD so I could face hurricane force winds with every hair glued firmly in place.

Most recently, hair straighteners arrived along with a cultural preference for sleek and tidy arrangements instead of the flowing, playful locks of yesteryear. Volume is still preferred which makes the desired look, straight but not flat, impossible. I purchased a straightener, and had my hair cut in the style of the gal from The Devil Wore Prada – the young one, not Meryl Streep. My commitment to using a straightener is sporadic. It’s easier to operate than a curling iron, but it still requires time and patience, and the effort expended rarely matches any feelings of satisfaction I receive. I’m still waiting for a product that I can apply to my husband’s eyes so that he can be under the illusion that I have the hair of his dreams.

But instead of purchasing products to solve hair problems, I’m interested in products that solve life’s problems. When I think about Wisdom, the way you personify her, I am filled with dread. I’ve felt the sting of her reproof when I reject her advice. She’s laughed at my disasters, mocked me when I’m overtaken by calamity, and ignored me when it was too late. She makes me feel like all my missteps in life have put me on a path where I will be paying the piper for a long time. I’m reminded of an interview I saw with a man who’d survived the Tsunami in Sri Lanka. His son was torn from his arms; he lost his entire family. He was a devout Buddhist, and from his perspective, it was Karma. “I must have done something terrible in a past life,” he reasoned, “to have something this bad happen to me.”

By Proverbs 3, I was reflecting upon all the wrong I’ve done in this life. I thought of the discouragement I’ve caused, the disrespect, disloyalty, anger, and pain I’ve inflicted. If wisdom and lack of wisdom is limited to the constructs of Karma, then I have some bad times ahead of me! I have reaped negative consequences from the mistakes I have sown. In the interest of changing my future harvests, I decided to do things differently and was hoping your advice would take me in the right direction. When it came to applying the wisdom you recommend, however, it is a bigger task than I initially thought. It is SOOOOOOOOO big, as a matter of fact, that I sometimes feel like giving up. The more I try to “understand,” the less I really know. It’s easy to feel like a failure.

I sought wisdom and understanding in tackling the problem of a malfunctioning ALL-IN-ONE printer, copier, scanner. I read the manual, examined the inner parts, and observed the movements in a printing cycle. I tried cleaning and dusting all the parts. I found a place where ink had leaked and pooled and spent hours cleaning it. I felt like I was tried EVERYTHING. Still, it didn’t work.

God, in His mysterious ways was preparing me for the path straightener. My knowledge is only part of the equation. So, in the interest of NOT leaning on my understanding I began to acknowledge God in my “office machine repair” ways. I thought of the broken printer and confessed how far my understanding and troubleshooting had gotten me. I then leaned on God to supply what my understanding lacked. And that morning, the printer worked.

I meditated on the path straightener instructions of Proverbs 3:5-6. “Trust in the Lord with all my heart. Don’t lean on my own understanding. In all my ways, acknowledge Him. And He will keep my paths straight.”

To be honest with you, office machine repair is just a beginning. I can think of dozens of applications for a path straightener: tangled conversations, scrambled emotions, jumbled intentions, and a rats nest of hurt feelings to name a few. As much as I appreciate understanding, what excites me most is the moment when the announcer says, “But wait, there’s more!” and Proverbs 3:5-6 was that for me. All that I comprehend pales in comparison to knowing that something greater than my understanding is available to me. And I don't have to pay shipping and handling to get it.