They call me the Pinocchio of eastern Arkansas. Every time even the slightest fib comes out of my mouth, there’s a dead giveaway—my luscious rat tail grows an inch. But I’ll tell you one thing for certain: I am no puppet. I am a real boy–no, I am a real man.
I’ve suffered from this affliction for as long as I can remember. When I was four years old, I got my first haircut at the Supercuts in Walmart, where I was blessed with my first inkling of a rat tail. Little did I know, I’d never be able to get rid of it. I’m a pretty honest man; I have to be. What people don’t realize is that everyone lies. All the time. White lies. “What’d you do yesterday?” they’ll ask. “Ah, nothing,” I’ll reply. Then I’ll hear the sound of fibers stretching and grasp the thin strand of hair jutting out of my otherwise tidy buzz cut to find that it’s an inch longer than it was a minute earlier—and over something so innocent.
To answer the question on your mind, yes, I have shaved my head completely bald. The tail still grows. Admittedly, it’s a pretty badass look to have an extra-long rat tail whipping out of my helmet while I’m riding my Harley, but those closest to me know it represents my dishonesty. This is no easy life.
I’m lucky to have found my wife Loranne who accepts my curse. Sure, my ever-growing rat tail has exposed some lies that have gotten me into trouble with her a few times. Take, for example, the time I took the four-wheeler out to the woods past dark and got stuck in the mud and tried to cover up by saying I was at the batting cages with Gage and the boys. Well, when my evil hair-snake started growing she could see right through me. She sure wasn’t happy, but no marriage is perfect. She’s an understanding woman who even let us give our two beautiful sons Lawson and Dalton unexpected hair spouts, too. They love looking just like their daddy.
If there’s anyone out there reading this message who suffers from the same dilemma, please reach out to me at Lonny@TheRatTailIsATimelessHaircut.com. I know I can’t be the only one with this god-forsaken disease. Even if you don’t suffer the same hardship, you can still be an ally. Be my Jiminy Cricket, and join me on my journey.