In a related note, The Common Man has always kind of had a common man-crush on Jack Nicholson. He's 70 years old and still an intimidating presence and the definition of coolness. His sly confidence projects from behind those sun glasses whether he's courtside at a Laker game, dating a 30-something actress, getting out of a speeding ticket, or smashing another driver's headlights with his golf clubs.
And through it all, Jack has had that awesome, slicked back, receding head of hair. It said, "Hey, I know I'm balding, but I'm getting older, what the hell do you want from me? I'll do whatever I want! I'm Jack Freaking Nicholson! Where the hell are my golf clubs?" More than anything else, it was honest.
So imagine my surprise when, while flipping past the Oscars (The Common Man is losing patience for awards shows and the obnoxious pageantry and self-congratulations there within), he saw this:
And now, The Common Man's illusions are shattered. Is that Jack Nicholson, or the over-the-hill bouncer from The Rathskeller in downtown State College? And if it is the over-the-hill bouncer, how did he get tickets for the Oscars? If Jack Nicholson has lost his mane and thus, like Sampson, lost his power of coolness, what hope is there for the rest of us? How can The Common Man, a dorky guy from Minnesota, hope to maintain what little coolness he has managed to hoard like a Floridian awaiting a hurricane? For some reason, this depresses The Common Man and makes him feel old more than actual birthdays.
