Why do you have that perpetual bedhead look?
First, thank you for noticing and pointing it out. Heaven forbid I should go one day without being reminded. Second, why the sudden interest in my hair? The last frequently not asked question was about my still-brown hair. Third, looks are deceiving: it’s not a bedhead; it’s a cowlick.
I have a beef with the cow that licked the top of my head with her big slobbery tongue. Since that time, I have lived in a whorl of pain. I am forced to wear left-headed hairstyles, in spite of the fact that I am right-handed. This leads to a lot of mental confusion, which explains much of what you read on this blog.
I suppose it’s better than a calf-lick, which happens when the smaller, less slobbery tongue of a calf licks your forehead. In that case, you are forced to face the permanent tuft of hair sticking up. Since my cowlick is on the back of my head, I am able to forget about it until some kind reader points it out and asks me about it.
Although I wear corrective lenses for my focus-challenged eyes, I have yet to find a truly corrective hairstyle. On a website I will not name, one writer mentioned the seriousness of cowlicks. Apparently, they’ve been known to turn hostile and threaten someone’s image. Since reading that, I have grown afraid and keep anticipating turning on the TV and hearing the news anchor say, “Spencer, we’re here at the Cow Palace near San Francisco. The entire building was evacuated earlier this evening during a concert when the cowlick on the singer’s head suddenly stood up and threatened the singer’s image. Our sources tell us this that the cowlick has shown signs of belligerence for years, but no one has been able to get to the root of the problem. Earlier tonight the mayor called in the SWAT team; you can see that they’re lobbing canisters of hair gel and hairspray into the building now. Soon they’ll storm the building with curling irons. It’s been a hairy night for all of us, Spencer, but we’ll be here until the cowlick is forced down.”
Thankfully I don’t have an image to threaten, but just knowing that cowlicks threaten some people unnerves me. I guess you could say I’m a tiny bit cowed.
Now do you see what I mean about the mental confusion?
Photo: stuartncook on Flicker
year-struck 
Your humor makes my days better, that’s for sure! 🙂
It makes me happy to hear that.
I have two cowlicks at the top of my crown. Helps balance things out but my hair never looks right (or left for that matter).
I sympathize, Kate. It’s amazing what we learn to deal with and manage to live happy lives. 🙂
Cow lick, calf lick,,let’s not split hairs here…It is, what it is..And it’s better by far than a Bull lick.
I’ve never looked at that way, which is probably a good thing.
Lovely post…I have never noticed your hair.
What is with the question about colour?
To understand the color reference, you have to click on “still-brown” and it will take you to Frequently Not Asked Questions: Three.
My son had a similar do. Then he went for the buzz cut over th umber and has never looked back.
You are tempting me to get a buzz cut.
Beautiful picture of the cow. And an opportunity to tell you that I have identified you, in my mind, with the beautiful avatar that appears at the head of your comments. It works just right for me. I don’t even bother to imagine the cowlick, without ever having seen it…
Thank you for not imaging, ShimonZ.
The cow photo is great, isn’t it? I’m so glad there are so many people on Flickr willing to share their photos.
I identify. My cowlick is also in the back and I forget it until a hairdresser who only lasts one dressing says “you’ve got a bald spot I’m trying to cover.” The hairdressers who continuing dressing say it isn’t so. It’s just a a spot where my hair curls in a different direction.
My son solved his cowlick problem by shaving his head.
I have considered the head shaving, but I’ve grown fond of my husband and hate to lose him.
I sympathise with your plight. I wake up nearly every morning with a feral racoon atop my head. Wrestling it into submission has been an ongoing battle since puberty.
I love the image of the feral raccoon. Thank you.
The cows don’t even give me a second look. I am no longer worth their time.
Now you can consider it an advantage.
If I have a cowlick it’s been subsumed by the limpness of my hair. Don’t be fooled by the glorious cascade of curls in this 7 year old picture….. It was the Christmas I got back from Iraq, and my daughter had supported me in bleaching my hair (it takes doing it twice to get it to that color). Just to add insult to injury I curled it Christmas morning for pictures, and then hurried out to the living room and said, “Quick, take the pictures before my the curls fall out!” Curls never last more than half an hour in my hair, no matter how dry it is (less time if it’s humid).
Your hair looks fabulous in the picture. When my hair goes limp it falls into a circular pattern around that cowlick.
I can feel your pain, I don’t exactly have a cowlick, but I have a double crown so I have a patch of hair that never stays parted right. It drives me nuts because it looks unbrushed no matter how much I comb it, but there’s nothing I can do about it. 🙂
A double crown sounds very regal. It also sounds much better than a cowlick, which has a slobbery sound. Apparently though, it is just as heartbreaking.
Oh it is. My hair never lays flat because I have a swirl on the top and side of my head. It doesn’t exactly stick up like a cowlick does, but it goes the opposite direction of my part and looks like I just don’t bother to comb my hair. 😛 I’d look wierd with a shaved head though, so I guess it’s the unkempt look for me.