Blondes and blonds, smiling happily all the way to the bank

by Ken Carpenter



            I don’t know much more about blonds than anyone else does, and most of what I know came from movies and jokes. Like many other folks, I have at times considered them to be of sub-par intelligence. Then I got smart and decided they have been getting a bum rap.

            One thing I don’t understand about them is why there are two spellings for blonde. My hair is black, not blacke, and most people have brown hair, not browne.

Blondes are special though, and I suspect many of them will not hesitate to tell you so.

Blond hair dye outsells other colors by five to one. That alone is enough to make a blond feel like a horse of a different color.

That also brings up the question of whether bottle blonds are the ones responsible for the “blondes are dumb” myth. I suspect so.

Blonds are more likely to be left-handed than others, yet more proof that they are different.

While some inconclusive studies say that blonds as a group are subject to more learning disabilities, other surveys say that they are more reliable employees because they do not get rattled as easily as brunettes.

Internet dating services confirm that brunettes only receive about four hits for every six a blond gets. Redheads are somewhere in between. Gee, that might be five.

Dating services also report that blonds are more likely to have college degrees and are also more likely to be employed in the legal profession. Unless the fake blondes also skewed that survey, unlikely in my opinion, my theory that blonds are not dumb may have some merit.

Advertisers found out years ago that blond models sell 5% more of whatever they are plugging. More proof that blondes can dumb their way right up to the bank vault door.

One nationwide poll shows that 76 percent of men and 74 percent of women believe the first woman elected president will be a brunette. Out of a Clairol bottle probably, but only her hairdresser and doctor will know for sure.

Supposedly 55 percent of the population agree with the old adage that blondes have more fun. I suppose many of the rest of us believe that they are just easily amused, but fun is fun.

Blond hair dye first hit the market in 1907, thanks to a French chemist named Eugene Schuller, but fake blonds had already been popular for centuries. Wigs of the blonde persuasion were commonly worn by ancient Roman women trying to compete with all the yellow haired slaves brought to Rome from conquered Germanic tribes.

Since Playboy magazine first hit the shelves in 1953, sporting Marilyn Monroe on the cover, 46 percent of all centerfolds have been blondes. Their average age is 22, average weight 115 and average height 5-foot-6. No wonder so many women are either suspicious or jealous of blonds. Fake or not, they are attention grabbers.

If you are at a cookout, sit next to a blond. Mosquitoes love them like a kid loves candy.

On a normal head of hair a blond will have 140,000 hairs, a brunette 110,000 and a redhead 90,000. If you want to know whether or not someone is a natural blond and they refuse to drop their pants, start counting the hairs on their noggin and you will soon lose interest in what they are. Until proven otherwise, a blond is a blonde.

An Australian study has stated that blonds have a higher pain threshold than other hair colors. I don’t know what to make of that, perhaps they would make good spies because of their ability to endure torture. Maybe that is why so many of them can laugh off a round of blonde jokes.

All this talk about blonds is giving me a headache, and my mostly black hair tells the Aussies that I can’t deal with pain.

Mmmmmm, perhaps a quick dye job would cure the problem.

Nah, I’m not looking for a date, mosquitoes already like me, and I’m not really model material.

Then again, I could always use a little more fun in my life.