Sportin' Waves

From Blog Pix

As many of you may be aware, for the last year or so, my hair has gradually formed a very iconic peak, which has been popularly coined a "faux-hawk". Or as my future mother-in-law calls it, a "duck-butt". Yes, I prefer the former.

One thing you may not know is that I embarked on a serious quest to discover just the right substance to hold my famous crest in place. Most gels end up flaky, and dry. Many pomades cannot endure for more than a few hours. I found these truths out the hard way, as I began to throw more and more money into failed hair-care purchases.

Then, on an emergency run to a "No-Frills" grocery store on the south-side of town, I saw a hair pomade that I had never seen before: "Sportin' Waves" by "Soft-Sheen Carson". Maximum Hold it read in the small sunburst on the side. It was far more affordable than the other pomades, so I decided I'd give it a go...

And it stuck. (Literally!)

"Sportin Waves" was able to keep my "faux-hawk" molded and glistening throughout the day. With just a tiny finger-tip of it's waxy goodness, I was able to mold and re-mold my hair as easily as silly putty. I absolutely loved it!Although it only took a little dab to keep my image up, I was gradually running out of my "Sportin Waves". Finally I decided it was time to buy some more. This morning I put "Waves" at the top of my grocery list as I headed out the door to SuperTarget.

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As I walked down the hair-care aisles at Target, I was astounded by some of the prices for just a little tub of pomade. Twelve Dollars. Fifteen dollars. Seriously? Then I saw it... Sportin' Waves! For only Four Dollars...it was perfect.

Well...maybe not so perfect...

It was then that I made my frightening discovery: I was standing in the "Ethnic HairCare" section!!! All around me were shampoos, gels, dyes, and pomades bearing faces that were of a much darker shade then mine, and a hair-type that was much different than mine. Afros and Corn-rows as far as the eye could see. "Sportin-Waves"...was for...BLACK people!

Now don't get me wrong, friends...I'm not a racist! I love black people...I've had lots of friends that are black. I love them. (And I loved them even before it was cool to say that you have black friends) And it was from this sense of love and kindredness that I have with my African American neighbors, that kept me from placing that pomade in my cart. "What will they think of me?" I thought. After all, I would be making a mockery out of what appeared to be one of the most popular Black Hair-care products.

And so I set it back on the shelf. I went and got the rest of my groceries.

As I finished putting the last food item in my cart, I turned around towards the check-out. Of course, I had to pass the hair-care section on my way out. Involuntarily I stopped. I went down the safe, white suburbs of the hair-care section and picked up a small tub of "Bed-Head" pomade. Sixteen Dollars, it read. "To heck with it!" I exclaimed, setting down the expensive alternative...and picking up an affordable tub of "Soft-Sheen Carson" goodness. I was ready to make my purchase.

I buried the "Waves" underneath my other groceries, hoping none would see. I scanned the registers...praying that there would be no Black people there. But to my surprise...there wasn't anybody there! Red, yellow, black OR white! And then I heard somebody shout, "Over here!" The call was coming from the customer service station by the door. I looked to see who it was...and...

It was a young black man. His name was Andre. Rats!

Andre was very friendly, I tried to distract him with small-talk as I covered up the Afro-Pomade with a frozen pizza. "Maybe, he won't even notice it!" I thought. Finally it was time for him to ring it up. "Please, O please, don't...!!!" And he didn't.He just rang it up and set in the bag. He continued chatting.

I breathed an enormous sigh of relief. This could just be my little, ethnic secret!

Then it happened."You use that Sportin' Waves?!"

Oh no.Do I tell him the truth? Perhaps I could tell him I was adopted by a black family and was getting it for my dad. Perhaps I could tell him I was getting it for my foreign exchange student room-mate from Tanzania. Perhaps I could tell him that I was just picking it up for Bill Cosby. But no...I had to tell the truth...

"Yeah...I use it."I hated the smile on his face. It made me feel so fake and weird.

"Really?" He said.

"Now, I know it's not really for my kind..." Now I sounded like a racist...way to go, Ben!

"...but I just like the way it holds...and it's so much more affordable."

He looked at me quizically. "You do a certain style with this?"

"Just what I got right now." I bent over slightly, so as to show him all my pointy regalia.

(There was this long, awkward silence right about here...)

I looked up at him. "You use this stuff?"

"Yeah!" He said smiling. "You just put a little on your fingers, rub it on, put on a do-rag, and it really brings out the waves."

I felt like he was speaking another language...a higher language. I felt like I was in kindergarten. I felt like I missed a very important day in anthropology class.

I finished the transaction, and wished Andre a good day. He wished me the same. I bet Andre will never forget me. I just hope I never see him again.