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Blondes - An Endangered Species?
by Mad Dog


According to The Vogue Book of Blondes, we’re rapidly approaching the end of the Blonde Era.This, my snickering friends, has nothing to do with intelligence— it has everything to do with genes.
     It’s hard to think that blondes may be going the way of the horse drawn carriage, the passenger pigeon, and families eating dinner together, but it’s true. According to a book that just came out, blondes may not make it to the end of the next millennium. Well, none that are alive now will, that’s for sure.

     This isn’t the set up to some elaborate blonde joke. If it was I would have used the dodo as an example of an extinct species instead of the passenger pigeon. Of course by doing that I would have risked not only being bombarded with hate mail but possibly never having sex again in my life. No, this theory is based on real scientific research done by a real geneticist, Steve Jones of the very real University College in London, a city I know is real because I’ve been there. Sure, the food in London may not be real, but the city is.

     According to The Vogue Book of Blondes, we’re rapidly approaching the end of the Blonde Era. Keep in mind that eras are different than ages, ages are different than eons, and neither of those are much like centuries at all. Centuries, however, are related to their older sibling the millennium, which may make them a second cousin once removed from an era but I’m really not sure. Hell, I have enough trouble remembering how I’m related to my brothers.



Basically what happens is that after successful sex—which to a guy is any sex but for the sake of this discussion is sex that results in a pregnancy— genes from each partner get together and decide what hair color the baby’s going to get.
     But back to the impending demise of the fair-haired people. This, my snickering friends, has nothing to do with intelligence—it has everything to do with genes. Genes, you may remember from that one day you just couldn’t manage to get to sleep during biology class, are those teensy weensy oogly things (to get technical) that live inside DNA. Kind of like us in our houses, except luckily genes don’t build fires, throw wild parties, or mow their lawns on Saturday mornings when some of us are trying to sleep, dammit!

     Genes are responsible for making us what we are. I know parents try to take credit for that—at least when we do something good—and schools deny to the death having anything to do with it, but the truth is, it’s genes that are responsible. They determine our basic traits like height, the shape of our butt, intelligence, and hair color. And just as there are people who deny the theories of evolution, there are those who deny genetics. They’re the ones who wear shoes with high heels, get liposuction and fanny lifts, copy off their neighbor’s test paper, and use Clairol No. 32. Face it, genetics has little to do with reality.

     Genes come in two flavors: dominant and submissive. Sorry, that’s sex partners I’m thinking of, the gene types are actually dominant and recessive. Basically what happens is that after successful sex—which to a guy is any sex but for the sake of this discussion is sex that results in a pregnancy—genes from each partner get together. They smile, check each other out, say silly things like "What sign are you?", and try to get each other drunk. Then they go up to their rented room at the Motel Sex and sit around deciding what hair color the baby’s going to get.



If blondes are destined to become an endangered species, maybe we should start protecting them while we still can. Personally I think blondes deserve to be preserved at least as much as condors, pandas, and snail darters. Okay, maybe not snail darters.
    It turns out this is actually a pretty easy decision, since there are rules they have to follow. It’s unclear who made these rules, but apparently they’ve been in place for a long time, possibly even eons or ages, but let’s not start that again, okay? If the genes are both the same type—for instance, both blonde—you’re pretty much assured that’s what the new baby will be. But if one gene is dominant and one is recessive, the dominant one almost always wins out. Recessive genes, you see, are the wusses of the genetic world.

     Darker colors are dominant and lighter colors are recessive. This may seem unfair, but it too has been going on since the first paramecium slithered out of the primordial ooze and noticed its hair was green. This means that if a dark-haired person mates with a light-haired person, their child will almost always end up with dark hair. Especially if the father has dark hair and happens to be the real father. That means that as long as blondes and brunettes interbreed there will be more and more brunette offspring. Hence, the end of natural blondes as we know it.

     This is serious stuff. It’s true that as long as there’s peroxide on the planet there will be blondes, but it goes deeper than that. It will mean the end of blonde jokes ("Daddy, what’s a blonde?"). It will signal an Armageddon-like battle as the other hair colors fight to decide which one will have more fun. And gentlemen—assuming there are any left, which judging by what I hear from woman, is a very debatable point—will have to start preferring something else. Hell, even blonde moments will have to be renamed, though that should be simple. I vote we call them Quayle Moments.

     If blondes are destined to become an endangered species, maybe we should start protecting them while we still can. Personally I think blondes deserve to be preserved at least as much as condors, pandas, and snail darters. Okay, maybe not snail darters. Even so, we should immediately pass legislation making it illegal to color blonde hair dark. It should be a felony to shoot blondes, especially in a baited field. You know, like a bar full of doctors. And we need to immediately set up blonde wildlife preserves where we can monitor their mating habits to ensure that they maintain their purity and continue the lineage. Hey, I think I just found my new career.

1999 Mad Dog Productions, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
These columns appear in better newspapers across the country. Read them while waiting in line at the Blonde Wildlife Preserve.

 

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