The 100 Guy

When I was 16, I thought I’d take the summer off.

I’ve been in media since I was editor of my high school newspaper.

My friend Charlie was watching television a few Sundays ago when “the Fed” closed his bank.

My five-year-old granddaughter stepped off the school bus from kindergarten and seemed troubled.

I was a devoted sports fan when I was teenager.

Sure, I give presents to friends and family this month – and I make annual donations to my list of nonprofits.

I wrote “Headscape: How a bald guy replanted his hair and restarted his life” to help others address a subject many avoid.

After leaving newspapers, I started an agency serving developers, architects, financial and legal clients, leading it for nearly two decades.

My girlfriend Edith, overhearing me tell a prospect how we’d find each other – “I’m 6’1” and balding,” – giggled uncontrollably.

A college fraternity brother grabbed the small remaining dollop of my brown forehead hair, proclaiming, “Two Mile Island!”