Last week, during downtime in her freshman CA class, Molly engaged in a vigorous defense of her eternal essence.
The instigators of this deep, philosophical debate were Trey Parker, Matt Stone and Molly’s mischievous pal who said, “If your mother’s a ginger, you don’t have a soul.”
South Park references aside, I’m here to defend my copper-haired, freckle-faced brethren.
We have souls, man, and back in the day we had street cred too.
We had whip smart comediennes like Lucille Ball and Carol Burnett; talented authors like Emily Dickinson and James Joyce and resourceful beauties like Tina Louise, the only castaway elegant enough to pack a full wardrobe of sexy evening gowns for a three-hour cruise.
Ask yourself this: in a comic strip full of cuties, who stole Charlie Brown’s heart? That’s right, the Little Red Haired Girl.
Back then redheads had pride. My sister Jenny, for instance, once won a Little Orphan Annie Look-Alike Contest and paraded all over Appleton on a float celebrating the carrot-topped moppet.
Today we have the Angry Ginger Kid, and a suspiciously coincidental announcement from Cryos, the world’s largest sperm bank, that it would no longer accept donations from red-haired men due to low demand.
It’s time to stand tall, my fellow redheads! Lift up those SPF50 covered chins, toss back those stringy copper curls, point those pale, freckled faces toward the sun and smile!
Remember the Titians! We have character! We have charisma! We have a mutation of gene MC1R on chromosome 16! But, mostly, we have soul!
Ruadh gu brath! Redheads forever! (or at least until our freakishly high levels of phomelanin fades.)
I am the daughter of a redhead, and have always been sad that my own hair is boring brown. Interesting redhead supposition: People are always coming up to my mom in stores and telling her they remember her from some such thing ten years ago. She rarely remembers who these people are. Our theory is that they remember her because of her hair, as there are just not that many redheads around. Thoughts?
This situation does sound familiar, though I attribute it more often to my inability to remember names. I like your theory better.
Reblogged this on Molly B and Me.
My sister is a ginger, my wife is a ginger, my daughter is a ginger. I always tell her God loves redheads best and gave you that color to find you faster.
Wish I knew how to insert a photo on a blog, if thatcis what this is.
Andy
I wish you could post a picture too. The Somers Gingers are very beautiful
My sister-in-law has the most beautiful long red hair. Her granddaughter has red curly hair to die for. I have to content myself with a slight red highlight seen if the sun shines just right on me.
We’re hoping for red-headed grandchildren some day…We’re hoping for grandchildren some day:) All four of our kids have the slight-red-highlight-if-the-sun-shines-just-right kind of hair, which is pretty too