THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 7, 1996 TAG: 9601040034
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K6 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MIKE KERNELS
LENGTH: Long : 101 lines
I THOUGHT that when I went to my 10-year high school reunion my friends would be glad to see me.
But they only wanted to reminisce with THE HAIR.
I had a funny feeling that something wasn't right the moment THE HAIR and I walked in the door.
All the guys had short hair. And were wearing polyester blends. And were sober.
``The Big Chill'' this wasn't.
I thought I had stumbled into a Young Republicans convention and the keynote speaker was Rod Serling.
What would happen next took me and THE HAIR by total surprise.
Suddenly, I was elevated from Geek Central status to Rebel Without a Clue.
Girls who 10 years ago wouldn't have gone on a date with me to a yard sale now found me sexy.
My name jumped from Guy Most Likely to be Celibate to the top of the Most Eligible Bachelor list.
Meanwhile, THE HAIR was feeding on all this attention like Jabba the Hut at a Shoney's breakfast buffet and there was no way it was going to share the spotlight.
No one knew that there was a human being under this coif trying to get out.
They didn't care about me, Mike Kernels, the only sophomore class president in school history to be put into in-school suspension; the guy who got kicked out of more football games (three) than any Princess Anne student my senior year; the guy who was slapped by a teacher my first day of school my junior year for patting her on the backside. (I thought she was a student I knew. Really.)
They only cared about . . . THE HAIR.
``I've been meaning to ask you - and I know you've probably heard this 10 times already. . . ''
Try 20.
``What made you decide to grow your hair long?''
``You know, you look a lot like Yanni.''
``Are those highlights natural?''
``Has anyone ever told you you look like Jesus?''
``Mike, man, you are looking so much like Charlie Manson, man, I'm like, not believing it, man. I'm really digging it, man. It's, like, so totally cooool.
And we wonder why we're called Generation X.
``Can I tell you something - and you promise not to get a big head?''
Go ahead, make my reunion.
``You know who you look like? Fabio.''
``Do people ever think you're a girl?''
Next.
``I saw one of your columns in the paper . . . ''
FINALLY. Some conversation about me, me, me.
``. . . and we both agreed that we really liked . . . ''
Yes. YES! Bring it home, baby!
``. . . your hair in the picture. It's so long.''
Beam me up, Scotty. Get me outta here.
My life in the past decade has been reduced to a 'do. That alone could get me a guest spot on Jerry Springer.
I don't know whether to be happy because of all the attention or sad that no one took more time to find out what the guy underneath the mane has been doing all these years. OK, not much. But it would have been nice if more people had asked.
Guess I can't complain too much. I left high school in 1985, a guy who thought he was cool but wasn't and came back a winner 10 years later.
What I had sought for so long had finally happened: I was cool.
But for the wrong reasons. Being cool is more than just a haircut. Just ask Kato Kaelin.
We know that beauty is only skin deep, yet, because we are visual creatures, our hearts - and our minds - are ruled by what we see.
We've made a habit of looking on the outside and not going any deeper. One look and we think we have all we need to know about a person's lifestyle and socio-economic status.
Maybe it has less to do with superficiality and more with our need to simplify things. I don't know.
I do know I didn't worry about these things when I was 18.
But like a good bottle of wine - some would say Thunderbird - I've matured.
I've found a career. Am more interested in babies than Budweisers. Wear Dexters instead of Topsiders.
And blossomed.
The Hair was only a part of the change.
It may go, and - judging by how much is left in the drain every morning after my shower - sooner than I think. You never know. Yanni today, Kojak tomorrow.
But who I am - me - is here to stay.
But will I still be cool?
MEMO: Mike Kernels and The Hair share a house in Chesapeake.
ILLUSTRATION: Photos
JIM WALKER/The Virginian-Pilot
Mike Kernels today (above): a babe magnet. Kernels 10 years ago
(below): a hopeless geek.
by CNB