Redheads are going extinct. Scientists predict that by the year 2100, redheads, of whom I am one, will be kaput. Gone. The gene for red hair is carried by only 4 percent of the world’s population. You do not have to be a “red” to carry the gene. With bi-hair-color mating, (red and brown, blond and black), the carrot top has a limited future. So if we want to have little Ron Howards (Opie) or Lindsey Lohans (dopey) in the next millennium, we may have to plan ahead. Or not.
Where would we be without people like Danny Bonaduce? Bad example. How about Dwight Eisenhower? He was a redhead. Who else could we taunt about their appearance without insulting them? “Hey match-stick head,” “I’d rather be dead than red” and “Where did you get that hair?” are just some examples of the pleasant comments we’ve often heard.
A common myth is that redheads have tempers. (That peeves me). Many people assume red-haired women are wild between the sheets. (My husband doesn’t.) Others believe redheads should answer to original and witty nicknames like “Red,” “Carrot top” and “Peppermint Patty.”(as I do.) A recent episode of “South Park” refers to the redhead as a “Ginger,” suffering from “Gingervitis.” Supposedly the “Ginger” has no soul. (What- ever.)
In some societies, the term redhead is synonymous with hard-headedness, the Devil or being mentally challenged. Best of all, this is all considered politically correct.
The world will be frightfully ordinary in the future without redheads. Try to picture the year 2150. Everyone will have dark brown hair, brown eyes and skin the color of a weak cup of latté. In other words, they will be attractive. Due to global warming, Earth will be a tropical paradise.
Few clothes will be worn because tawny skin will rarely burn. There won’t be any leprechauns (redheads, all) left, so there will be no chasing rainbows. Action figures and dolls will be dark-haired, pretty and handsome, but Kewpie, Troll and Raggedy Ann will go by the wayside. Clowns (flame-heads), of course) will crawl back into that tiny little car, never to return.
There will be museums featuring stuffed redheads of the past. Like the dinosaur, “redheadisinteruptus” will be a highly contemplated phenomenon. It will be speculated that the species died off because their skin rejected the sun. Conspiracy theorists will suggest that the large Celtic population was banished to a faraway island, where they step-danced themselves to oblivion.
There will be stories about famous redheads: Van Gogh, William Shakespeare, Sarah Ferguson, Woody Allen and Lucille Ball, thus illustrating the fine line between genius and insanity. There will be nostalgia parties at which revelers dress as their favorite redhead: Little Orphan Annie, Woody Woodpecker, Elmo.
The redhead will be just a silly memory in the next millennium if we do not act now. The future is “plain” to see: Who will the dark-haired, perfect beings compare themselves to without the titian-haired, with their alabaster skin and freckled faces, not to mention invisible eyelashes and eyebrows? The greeting card industry will have lost its poster children. The future looks seriously beige.
Red is not dead, yet. There may be hope for flame-heads in the future, such as redheaded test tube babies or cloning. This may be irresponsible in light of the fact that the extinction of the redhead seems to be a natural evolutionary phenomenon. Who messes with Mother Nature? Jurassic Park does make a good case against resurrecting extinct species. I believe the (new) dinosaurs ate the people.