A considerate golfer knows when it’s time to give up. Standing in a bunker on a par 3, he has made four unproductive attempts to get on the green and taken in vain the names of deities representing multiple religions. He is wasting everyone’s time and, worse, making the world a less beautiful place. So he does the right thing. He picks up his ball and concedes.
That’s how I approached my hair about 14 years ago. There wasn’t enough of it. I was wasting everyone’s time. So I gave up. Now my hair routine entails nothing more than dragging an electric shaver over my scalp every two weeks. And hats.
Which brings me to Sheila Grant. For my money, she maintains the most amazing hairdo in all of Dallas. In preparation for writing these words, I sent Grant an email telling her how much I admire her hair and asking if we could chat. She replied, “What a lovely, thoughtful note!!! I am quite complimented.” And then we couldn’t find a time to visit—not because of my schedule. The descriptor “power couple” gets too much use, but that truly fits Sheila and her husband, Jody. A lot of folks had a hand in the creation of Klyde Warren Park, but their hands left a smaller print than the Grants’. Sheila is a busy woman.
So without the benefit of her thoughts on never giving up, on making the effort every single day to create a masterwork that does leave the world a more beautiful place, I want to instead simply draw your attention to the photograph here of Grant taken when she was on a hard-hat tour of the construction site for the Nancy Best Fountain at Klyde Warren Park. The first time I saw this picture, in 2022, it was like I’d just seen Michael Jordan’s famous switch-hands layup against the Lakers in the 1991 Finals. It was breathtaking. It was extravagant. It was a statement: “I play this game at a different level, above and beyond the rules you’ve established. You can only dream of doing what I do.” The way she so stylishly flaunts her hatlessness deserves to be memorialized in iambic pentameter.
As a bald man who has conceded, I want to recognize Sheila Grant and every other woman, my wife included, who takes the time to transform a bunch of dead keratinized cells into a display of beauty and a source of inspiration. And I hope you’ll understand when I report that on that par 3, I carded a bogey.
This story originally appeared in the March issue of D Magazine. Write to [email protected].
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