So, here at work, two fellows signed up to have their heads shaved today as part of a local radio station’s “Shave to Save” campaign, a fundraiser for breast-cancer research. Now, don’t get me wrong—the community has to pick up where the government has failed when it comes to funding research—but I can’t help but feel cynical when guys agree to have their hair cut off in order to show empathy with women living with the consequences of breast cancer. Hell, the guys’ hair is going to grow back with a few weeks and I’m sure they’re hoping it will grow in thicker.
The way I figure it, if folks really want to show they care and that they are willing to experience the pain and discomfort of cancer treatment, I strongly suggest they take heavy doses of medical poison—preferably the emetic kind—lose about 25% of their body mass, lose their hair permanently, become so weak that even getting up to go to the bathroom requires all the thought and strength they have, possibly lose a body part, empty out their bank account, radically change their diet, and so much more stuff that I hope to never undergo. Yeah, that would grab my attention and my admiration.