Blondes have more fun

That’s bull. I’ve been a blonde the large majority of my life, but decided over Thanksgiving that I was tired of it. And it had nothing to do with, and no consideration for, the amount of fun I happened to be having. I’m here to testify -- now that I'm a bit redder --that I’m still having a great time.

Sometimes in life you just need to shake things up a bit, and hair color is a nice, safe place to make some adjustments. Plus, as they say, image is not everything.

(Considering the drama that ensued in my household of extended family, however, over me changing my hair color, you’d think it was next to world peace on the levels of profound-ness. In other words: Grandma was not a happy camper.)

But back to that part about "image is not everything": That idea IS bull. Complete bull. We live in a world where image is critical and often far superior to actual content and substance. I could go on to whine about it, but we might as well move on and do our best to have the two go hand-in-hand. Reality is that we will continue to elect attractive presidents, and have pop stars with abs far more chiseled (and exposed) than mine.

I happen to like who we recently elected and know quite a few musicians with superior muscle tone. That’s life. Just play your music.

But all this reminds me of the obligatory photo shoot I had to do in order to put out my first album. People need and want to know what you look like if you’re a performer, and if you’re an unknown you're told you have to make a splash with your image. I wasn’t real comfortable with the whole situation at first, but have grown to embrace it.

When I arrived at the photo shoot I was immediately put at ease by the highly recommended photographer who turned out to be a rockabilly-loving, beer-drinking, Nascar-watching kinda guy. He was fantastic, and good at what he does. I was thrilled with how the photos turned out and proud to paste them on the album cover.

But the amateur photos my darling, tag-along friend Carey also took at the shoot are comical and very telling. All it takes is looking at something from a different angle and the story changes entirely. I couldn’t help but chuckle at being framed between a pothole and a Dumpster for my moment of glamour … fitting, I think. Diamond in the rough, anyone?

Ann, my music mentor, doesn’t like my new hair color. She says blondes have more fun. Granted she’s a blonde herself, so maybe I shouldn’t expect any different, but it didn’t bother me a bit because I’m having a blast. And I kind of like being a reddish brunette for a change.