Getting a hair transplant is all the rage where I live.  Every guy I know is having it done.  It seems to go hand in hand with the midlife crisis.  Got a midlife crisis?  Get a hair implant.  Take Bill, for instance.  Bill plays golf all the time and he’s a widower.  He’s only 60 and he’s on the prowl, and there are plenty of divorced or widowed women in our gated community.  So he figures—if he can have a full head of hair, if he can get an operation to grow some of it in, he’ll look that much more arresting!  Now, Paul only wants to do this for his wife, because he’s afraid she’ll leave him if he doesn’t keep thinking of new tricks to keep her around.   But Gene, on the other hand—well, Gene is one of our youngest, an insurance executive with a ranch house of his very own.  Never married—Gene plays the field and goes into the city for his conquests.  Seeing he’s only 28, he’s got plenty of time.  Gene’s getting a new head of hair because he doesn’t like being a redhead.  He seems to think that men with red hair are always taken for sissies.  Yes: Gene’s going for the dark-haired look—dark-brown, that is.  And me?  I think I’m the only guy in the neighborhood that DOESN’T want to change my hair.  I’m bald and have been for many years.  I like it that way!  I think it distinguishes me not only by showing my true age, but it relieves me of constant brushing, combing, and shampooing.  Now try telling that to the guys in the club!