|Blonde Ron - 1981 (with a little help of peroxide and sun)|
Ever wonder what a blonde Ron looked like? You haven't?
|Mom and her two blonds sons and me (on right) - 1951|
Blondes run in our family. My father Isaac was a blonde. My brother Isaac, Jr. is also a blonde. His daughter Karen and son Isaac, III are also blondes. I was not a blonde. In fact, along with my Mother, I had dark brown hair. My youngest brother John has light brown hair. Not quite blonde but not quite dark brown either. Isn't this interesting?
|Me (center) with my two younger blonde brothers, blonde father and dark haired mother - 1947|
However, the deed was done so I headed off to the gay summer playground of Provincetown, Mass. Know what they say "Be careful what you wish for?" My vacation was a bust folks. I wasn't mobbed by all the good-looking guys on my arrival at the Provincetown airport. No one noticed me in town and my nightly forays to the Back Street Bar and the Atlantic House went for naught. Even my afternoons at the Boatslip Tea Dance I went unnoticed. Perhaps it was because I felt so self conscious. I'm not sure why I got the reaction I did to my new blonde persona.
When I got home, thoroughly humiliated, having to explain to my co-workers at Girard Trust Bank where I worked in Philadelphia why I suddenly had BLONDE HAIR from this summer's vacation when I had none before. I used the old excuse "I was out in the sun a LOT!" That excuse didn't go wash with most. I couldn't wait for my hair to grow out to it's normal dark brown.
Next year when I appeared in Provincetown with my normal dark brown hair, all was well again with the world. I still wasn't mobbed at the Provincetown airport, nor the Boatslip Tea Dance or the Atlantic House or Back Street bar but I did "make some friends."
So the morale of this story is "Blondes may have more fun but gentlemen prefer brunettes."
|Me - Provincetown - 1979 - brown hair|