So Tiger Woods has announced he is “dating” Lindsey Vonn, the all-American skiing champion. Is it my imagination, or does she resemble every other woman Tiger has charmed with his swishing club shaft? If I were Tiger’s agent, I would have urged him to go out with a transitional brunette just to prove he isn’t colour-prejudiced. I wouldn’t have advised him to date a black woman, of course – a suggestion so outlandish might have caused him to choke on his tongue, which wouldn’t have helped his accuracy with the driver.
As a gorilla, I don’t see why men find blond women so alluring. Admittedly they do look the part in Scandinavia, where they blend into the Nordic landscape like artic foxes. But I always find it damnably difficult to tell their faces apart when they congregate in large numbers. I wonder if Hef has name badges for the playmates in the mansion, so he can keep track of whose turn it is to knead his leathery buttocks. Maybe he doesn’t particularly care and lets the girls draw straws.
Now a few blond women do stand out from the crowd. Scarlett Johannson is one and Angela Merkel is another. They complement their strengths and weaknesses so perfectly that they ought to be a double-act. As the gene for human blondness is a relatively recent mutation, they must have a common prehistoric ancestor who was the Mother of all blondes (Moab). The alpha males of that epoch must have fought for the privilege of mating with her, while the alpha females no doubt pulled her hair and made bitchy remarks about peroxide. Being the first of a new strain is never easy.
Yet in truth, I find red-haired humans more interesting than blondes. The genetic mutation that gave rise to their condition is a very ancient one, shared by our orang-utan cousins. It is said to be associated with extrovert behaviour and a healthy libido, which is why you should always expect the unexpected from a redhead.
Take Cynthia Nixon, the actress who portrayed Miranda in Sex and the City. There she was playing happy families with her husband and two children, when quite out-of-the-blue she ran off with another woman and joined the tuppence-licking sorority. Her conduct reminded me of Clyde, the mercurial orang-utan in Every Which Way But Loose, who would stick out his arm without warning to punch people in the face.
Who is the world’s leading redhead? I would give the title to Julia Gillard, the prime minister of Australia. A lot of people find her accent unbearable, but I think it makes her sound like a school mistress addressing the roughnecks and bushwhackers in their own barbarous dialect. There is no doubt that millions of men have sexual fantasies about her, and are frustratedly searching for pornographic images to indulge their obsession. If she retired from politics today, she could easily earn $500 an hour as an escort, which is a more honourable way of making a living than giving paid speeches to assemblies of toadies.
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