BY RYAN E. SMITH

BLADE STAFF WRITER

 

I have a warning for Donald Trump: Being bald isn't for everyone.

 

Not that The Donald has a choice. If the professional wrestler he chose to represent him Sunday at WrestleMania 23 in Detroit loses, Trump will have to shave his head as part of a bet with WWE chairman Vince McMahon.

 

It might not be so bad. A lot of people have tried the Mr. Clean look and turned out great.

 

Michael Jordan made it an iconic look for athletes. Bruce Willis made it look tough. Yul Brynner made it look smooth.

 

But. There's always a but.

 

Some heads, on some people, were never meant to be revealed. Like Britney Spears, who last month shaved her head in a spurt of rebellion.

 

Or me.

 

I shaved my head a few years ago on a whim, and I'll never regret it. But everyone who came in contact with me did.

 

My friends with hair begged me not to do it. They said my skull is oddly shaped, that hair like mine was meant to cover the mistakes of creation, that my already shaky stud-factor would slip even more.

 

My balding friends wailed that people with hair ought to do everything in their power to keep it, that it might not grow back, that I was wasting my youth.

 

I just thought it would make me look like I was from the future.

 

It took about an hour to shave my head all the way to the skin. Some friends helped me go Kojak, starting with clippers and carefully finishing with disposable Bics.

 

When it ended, there were giggles all around. My naked noggin was a little whiter than the rest of my body and a lot more razor burned.

 

Something else was different, too. You see the whole world a lot differently when you don't have any hair.

Nature turns against you. The water in the shower trickles off your head like beads of mercury. The sun threatens to burn you at every turn. The wind is really, really cold.

 

As fresh fuzz begins to sprout, your head sticks to things, especially fleece hats and sometimes your pillow. Your head forgets to get out of the way of things and smacks into low doorways and tree branches.

 

The world sees you a whole lot differently, too.

 

It calls you Baldy, Cue Ball, Chrome Dome, Butch, Cootie, Chia Pet, even Zippy the Pinhead.

 

It repeatedly walks up to you and asks, "Can I?" in the hopes that it may rub your head.

 

It asks you if you've joined the Aryan Nation or the Army or how the chemotherapy is going. Sometimes, it passes right by and doesn't recognize you.

 

If you're lucky, the world bows before you, praising your courage and calling you a real man. It backs away in awe from the 1 1/2-inch scar that was hidden under your hair for so long, from when you ran into the wall as a pre-schooler.

 

Or, if you're me, it puts up a sign in your office identifying you as a "Hairy Krishna," and tells you that you really, really don't look like you're from the future.

 

Everyone agreed that I should never do it again, but at least now I know. It's hard to guess beforehand whether a shaved head will be a cause for celebration or merely an excuse to wear a big hat.

 

The place to start is with the shape of your head. You want a nice round noggin, not a square or flat one with bumps. Watch out for moles or birthmarks that could be just below the surface.

 

I know, I know. You're wondering why you should trust me, and I don't blame you. So I talked to Nicole Arndt, a stylist at David Broadway Salon & Spa in Sylvania Township.

 

"Typically, the men who look best who shave their heads have nice round, symmetrical heads or skull shapes," she said.

 

See!

 

For guys, the look has come to convey a strong, masculine sense that's daring and bold. Think about the types of characters who sport shaved heads in movies: soldiers, prisoners, kung fu masters, Louis Gossett, Jr., Vin Diesel.

 

 

"It's always a strong character, no matter who it is, men or women. It's never someone who's weak," Dyrk Ashton, an assistant professor of film at the University of Toledo, told me.

 

Mr. Ashton would know. He's shaved his head since 1990, when he pulled an Andre Agassi as he started going bald prematurely.

 

"I was a little nervous about it, but it went over well and I had a decent shaped head," he said. "Chicks dug it."

 

Someone once asked him in a nightclub if he was a skinhead. His response?

 

"Physically, yes. Politically, no."

 

As Sunday's WrestleMania approaches, there's only one question worth asking: How would Mr. Trump look bald?

 

For that, Mr. Ashton has a well thought out, scholarly opinion.

 

"He certainly couldn't look worse than he does with that hairdo he has now."

 

As for me, don't worry; I've learned my lesson.

 

My life as a bald man is over. The next time I want to show some skin, I'll wear shorts.