PUNK PINK IN 85

 

Back in 1999 my father & I had just moved to Vero Beach. We were out in the car when I spotted a teenage boy with purplish-pink hair on the sidewalk.

“Does that bring back memories?” I laughed as I motioned toward the kid.

Dad just shook his head. He didn't want to remember.

Back in 1985 I was 34 years old and sported bleached blonde tresses that reached down to the middle of my chest.

A new product was introduced promising a "temporary" color change that was supposed to wash out. I'd always wondered what I'd look like as a redhead so I purchased a bottle. It was a foam and easy to apply.

 But after it dried, my hair was a NEON PINK!!!

To say the least I was startled! However my parents were ready to disown me; despite the fact I kept insisting it was only temporary.

However to my horror it refused to wash out! My light bleached hair had grabbed the color!

I couldn't stay home; there were too many things that needed doing. Among them was grocery shopping. All throughout the store people stared at me with mouths agape. My parents were ashamed to be seen with me.

On the way home I got out of the car to mail a letter. Two women driving by slowed their car almost to a halt staring at me as if I was Mt. Rushmore.

Neighbors wanted to know what was going on with this new hair color of mine. Fortunately I had a good excuse. -- Thankfully it happened to be Halloween week! However when they inquired as to my plans I stumbled for an answer. And my face probably turned the color of my hair.

The only thing I had planned was to watch horror movies at home, which is my favorite way to spend Halloween since I was too old for trick-or-treating.

But then, I decided why not embrace this for the holiday! I asked my friend Pat to go to lunch with me along with my neon hair on Halloween Day. We could both wear costumes!

Pat informed me that she would feel too conspicuous. Other friends and family told me likewise and I didn't have the confidence to go alone.

After Halloween, my good excuse was gone but the neon pink remained. I had to do something fast! I phoned the Clairol hotline for answers as I often did back then. But this time, they refused to help me because it wasn't their product!

I pleaded almost in tears. Then explained that I use their product for lightening and this would interfere when it came time for a touch-up. They relented and told me to use something called Metalex. I did and it removed the neon part, but not the pink.

The pink remained stubborn even after many applications of Metalex. I was left with long pinkish blonde hair.

The following week my Aunt & Cousin Clarence were coming down to spend the winter in Florida again. It was the height of the season with lots of events going on. Clarence & I enjoyed them together.

But I wondered how he was going to react to my new hair color.

"Clarence will be embarrassed to be seen with you!" my mother stated. "People will think he's out with some hooker!"

So I decided to try something different. I had an ash rinse that I used after bleaching to tone down the brassiness. I tried that and ended up with ash-pinkish blonde hair which thankfully was not as attention grabbing!

Eventually, over time the pink SLOWLY washed out.

Later around the year 2000, a particular TV commercial struck close to home. It featured a middle-aged woman crying in her bathroom because of a hair dying accident.

Her sympathetic husband says, "Oh well, we'll just have to cancel our dinner plans at Outback."

Seconds later, she emerges with pink hair. "I'll get my coat!" she replies.

At the restaurant a young waiter approaches and exclaims, "Wow you are so RAD, lady!"

She raises her head and beams with pride.

Well I was "RAD" too, a long time before.  --  Only then, it wasn't called that!

F.Y.I. in 2001 I became a flaming redhead, loved that color and kept it until age 65.

A SAD REMINISCENCE

 

October 16 2021 will be the 20th anniversary of my father's death. Finally, it feels like 20 years. The 10th still felt as if he died only the day before.

Probably because Dad was lingering about in spirit, there were numerous signs. I've blogged about this in the past so we won't revisit it here. 

This year also marked the 20th remembrance of the 9-11 tragedy. It will forever be linked with my father's passing in my thoughts. He died only a short time later on 10-16.

Dad served in WWII; first stationed in Monterey, California and later in occupied Japan. There, he became friends with a Japanese family. They corresponded with ours after he left the service, but contact was lost after we moved to Florida in 1952 the year after I was born.

My father was the only person I've ever known who was equally skillful with his hands as he was with his mind. Never did we require handyman! Anything that broke he'd reach for his toolbox and fix. And he did as well or better than a professional!

Plus he was a mathematical whiz! He could do everything in his head! And Dad could look at a lengthy list of figures and immediately spot the one that was wrong or out of sync. Unfortunately neither my brother nor I inherited these skills. And I'm worse! I have dyscalculia and struggle with even simple math.

My father followed the stock market closely. He had numerous charts and graphs in his home office. Once, he claimed it was controlled and showed me the evidence. Of course his explanation went straight over my head. But I'm inclined to believe him.

Dad suffered 2 heart attacks during his lifetime. The last requiring a triple bypass. However it was cancer that eventually brought him down. In between he was stricken with a stroke that left him paralyzed on one side. 

I recall when my father turned 80. He appeared so young and healthy I thought I'd have him around at least well into his 90's. My father was active, sharp mentally, and was a healthy eater. I never imagined he'd go downhill so quickly after that birthday. He died at 85 the same age as his chain-smoking father.

A Hospice worker told me that his body was programmed to die at that age. I hate to think we have so little control.  

Dad was a handsome man right up until illness started taking its toll. I used to watch with amusement as women flirted outrageously with him. A sex obsessed therapist of mine wanted to meet him. I told her NO because she'd probably fall in love with him! He didn't need another woman complicating his life.

My father was also an excellent provider. Our family lacked for nothing! At one time he held a high paying prestigious job at a corporation. We lived well and owned high-end everything! That changed when I turned 14. The corporation went belly-up thanks to the skullduggery of the man above him.

Dad was almost 50 years old at the time. Employers were all hiring far younger men for less money. For years we lived off savings and his investments. Still, we lacked for nothing, but creature comforts and luxuries became far and few between.

When I was 20, Dad bought a florist shop with a wedding chapel attached on the suggestion of his financial advisor. I worked with him there for nearly a decade. It was a job we both came to hate for the same reasons; the long hours, difficult customers, and thieving employees. He was happy to sell and retire.

But sadly, Dad never recovered psychologically from the loss of his job at the corporation. That was his niche, not the flower shop! He remained bitter about this till the day he died.