Stepping out of the comfort zone for hair care

Pat steps out of her comfort zone to get her hair highlighted. Photo provided by Pat Van Dyke

I have never “lived on the edge.” I’m afraid of heights and living on the edge sounds much too dangerous.

I didn’t eat my first piece of pizza until I was 18. Tacos were not part of my menu until I was married for at least 10 years. I have never tried escargot or frog legs. My family only ate traditional Dutch meals: meat, potatoes, vegetables and if it were a holiday, gravy!

I grew up in Southern California, but I have never tried to surf, and I didn’t cruise Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible until I was 60 years old! I have never jumped off a high dive and I never put my head under the water while I am swimming.

I have tried to snorkel, but the idea of breathing underwater is impossible. I rented the equipment, bought the frozen peas and waded into Hanauma Bay on Oahu. Within 15 minutes, I had almost drowned, sucked all the water out of the bay, returned the equipment and eaten the peas. Thirty years later, Pastor Pete can still do a great impression of my snorkeling adventure complete with peals of laughter.

Pat curls her hair to resemble Shirley Temple. Photo provided by Pat Van Dyke

In 1976, I did take the Palm Springs Tramway to the top of the St. Jacinto Mountains. My prayer life greatly increased during every one of the 8,516 feet that we traveled. That was a “once in a life-time experience and never again” for me!

But I will take risks. All you have to do is “dare me” to do something, as long as I’m standing on flat terrain and I don’t have to eat anything. Being a diabetic comes in very handy when it comes to eating snails, grasshoppers and squid. No one knows the carbohydrate count, which saves me every time.

I do step out of my comfort zone when it comes to the “care of my hair.” From the day I was born, my hair and/or lack of has been an issue. I was born bald, which was disappointing for my mother who was sure that she was giving birth to the next Shirley Temple. She soon discovered that placing a bonnet on my head hid the fact that I was bald; however, the three-inch brims Mom placed on the bonnets made it very apparent that my head was huge and my body was very skinny. I think they used pictures of me for a prototype of the Cabbage Patch dolls.

Pat was born bald, which was disappointing for her mother who was sure that she was giving birth to the next Shirley Temple. Photo provided by Pat Van Dyke

By the time that I was five years old, my hair had been permed, oiled, rolled, pinned, braided and plugged into an electrical socket while I had metal rods on my head, but the results were always the same. My head was covered with blonde, straw-like, straight hair.

When I was 11 years old, my mother had my hair cut into a pixie-style, so I put on a green shirt, pants and shoes and went looking for Tinker Bell. I convinced my little brothers that I was Peter Pan!

Later that year, Mom decided that my brown hair was too streaked with strands of blonde and purchased henna hair coloring. Two days later, my hair was green!

I was rushed to the beauty shop and my hair was bleached and followed by a heavy dose of permanent wave solution. By the end of the day, my hair was no longer green. Instead, my hair was bright orange!  I looked like a pumpkin.  Keep in mind that this was 1958 and hair colors were only red, black, brown, grey and blonde, so I was actually way ahead of my time!

I then decided to take control. When we first moved to Canyon Lake, our barber in Illinois also moved to Temecula. Darryl was extremely adventurous in his hair cutting methods and within a few weeks, I found myself in his shop hanging upside down from a one-inch tubular steel bar, wearing attached gravity boots strapped to my ankles.

I had fallen for Darryl’s latest method of getting the perfect haircut. He told me that “By inverting you, the gravity pulls your hair straight down. When you turn upside down, it falls 90 degrees from the point of origin automatically. Then I cut the inside lines of the haircut in the inverted position.”

It all sounded great to me, so I gave it a try. The impressions on people’s faces when they walked into the shop were the best part of the experience!

When I had my hair “weaved,” it proved to be the best move ever!  I never knew that after they place all the small squares of tin foil on your head and you turn your head in exactly the right position, you can get in radio stations from Phoenix and Tahoe!

I’ve only had one really bad haircut. The year that we moved to Canyon Lake, I went to the then “one and only beauty/barber shop” in our local shopping center. My haircut was so bad that I couldn’t cry. Instead, l threw up!  The next day, Pastor Pete went into the same shop to have the barber cut his hair but was informed that the barber wasn’t in because he broke his hand that morning when he hit his cow in the head. Pastor Pete then realized that he wasn’t in Chicago anymore. But when the beautician mentioned that she had cut my hair just the day before, fear gripped his heart, and he asked for “only a trim.”

I have had many recent “hair adventures” but none brought me more satisfaction than four weeks ago when I was able to curl my hair so that I looked exactly like Shirley Temple! Mom would have been proud!