Am I Really Going to Blog About Mraz’s Hair?

Jason MrazYes. Yes I am.

Our beloved Jason Mraz, Prophet-at-Large, has been changing up his myspace photos like crazy in the past week. For that I give thanks, because it’s so dull to go to my page and not have anything new to look at. A new photo in my Top 8 always catches my eye, and he’s had a couple of excellent eye-catchers lately.

The newest photo also solves a bit of a mystery for me. When I saw him perform in Tahoe in January he was sporting a pretty crazy ‘do. From back where I was, with my contacts going a little dry and blurry by the end of the evening, and with my mind otherwise distracted by the sexy young gentleman sitting closer and closer to me as the show went on, I could see that Mraz was rocking a fuller head of hair than usual, but I couldn’t get all the logistics of it down. I thought it might be a hat hair/Flock of Seagulls tribute combo.

This newest photo, assuming it’s a recent one because he looks kind of young in it, makes a little more sense of the adventure that is his hair, and gives me another reason to feel at one with the Mrazalicious one, because now I know that we know the same pain: the pain of unruly, does-what-it-wants-no-matter-how-much-you-spend-and-how-often-or-unoften-you-wash-it follicles. Straight hair people want more body, but having body is both a blessing… and a curse. That’s right. A blessing… and a curse. (Oh Monk, how I love you.)

I don’t really think Jason Mraz’s hair is news. I don’t really care what he wears, what he drives, who he dates, or any of that. That’s his life to deal with. Even on the stage, I’ve always been opposed to those people who spend the whole show telling him what to do, screaming, “Rand McNally!” or “Take it off!” For Mraz’ sake people, you’re lucky enough to get to experience him in the flesh, now zip it and let the boy play what he wants to play. You know it’s going to be good, so enjoy what you have and stop screaming for what you don’t. Unless there’s ice cream involved. Always scream for ice cream.

(This especially bugs me during a slow song. I start to feel very *grrr* when Mraz is kicking ass on some ballad, and in the middle of his emotional watercolor some tween screeches, “Ohmygawdjasoniloveyouwooooo!” You love him so much you want to rudely interrupt his heartfelt performance? Come on now people, manners make the world go round. Save it for the big finale.)

But about the hair, no, it’s not news. But it is a statement. It’s one that says, sure, I’m a reasonably famous guy who could afford daily manscaping and a personal stylist at my beck and call, but what the hell for? It’s only hair.

And that’s why he’s so damn cool.

The darkness falls under your hair,


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