The mullet is a hairstyle in which the hair is cut short at the front and sides, but left long at the back, and was more commonly worn by men than women. Mullets became popular in the 1980’s and 90’s sported by athletes, country music stars, punk rockers, actors, and TV preachers. Paul McCartney was an early mullet man, as was Rod Stewart, Billy Ray Cyrus, Toby Keith, Chuck Norris, John Stamos, and on and on.

By the turn of the last millennium, there were dozens of mullet hairstyles to be observed in the world. There were redneck mullets, Latino mullets, African-american mullets and Euro-mullets. I’ve seen long mullets, mini-mullets, perm-mullets, and wavy mullets. There was even a fashionable mullet for balding guys, called a “skullet.” The Plymouth pilgrims described the Native American chief, Samoset, as sporting a legit mullet, and Mike Gundy, the coach of the Oklahoma State Cowboys football team is still a mullet man. There are even ancient Roman and Greek statues depicting mullet hairstyles from the B.C years! Whew!

About ten years ago, as mullet culture had all but faded from the scene, I invented a game called “mullet watch” that was enjoyed by me, my two grown daughters and a few other members of the family. Any time we sighted a marvelous, spectacular mullet hairdo, we attempted to take a stealth pic of it and share it between us—just for fun. “Mullet sighting!” we would text with an incredible photo of the nearly endangered species. Of course, they were never posted on social media or exposed to the public. The last thing we wanted was a mullet defamation lawsuit. We just wanted to enjoy American history.

One afternoon in 2012, my sister and I were sitting in a physician’s waiting room with our 89 year-old father. The waiting room was almost full with about a dozen or more people crammed into the room. I sat next to Dad while my sister sat in an available chair not far away. The room was basically quiet since almost everyone in the room was either looking at a magazine, or staring into their cell phone.

Within a few minutes a tall, hefty bearded man entered waiting room sporting the most magnificent mullet that had ever been seen on planet Earth. He had a tall flat-top haircut on top, a close crew cut on the sides, and a long, flowing mullet from the middle of the back of his head and reaching almost to his belt. His hair was mousy brown and gray, but the bottom HALF of his mullet was bleach blonde with a mustard hue! It was spectacular! Just one quick photo to my daughters would certainly win the contest for me. Game over!

My sister disguised a grin as I stood up from my chair and worked my way to the magazine rack—which was adjacent to the man with the magnificent mullet. She knew exactly what I was doing. I checked to make sure the phone was on silent. I wouldn’t want the room to hear a tell-tale “click” of the camera. Very carefully I positioned my cell phone in his general direction and began doing paparazzi work, taking about three snapshots from varying angles. After I returned to my chair I checked my photos. There were a couple of shots that were perfect! It was the most marvelous mullet I had ever seen.

I wasted no time texting my daughters and sending them the pics. I could hardly wait for them to respond. Dad became suddenly interested in my hectic activity on the cell phone and leaned over to observe. Then, to my utter disbelief Dad asked out loud,

                           “What’s a mullet?”

His words split the air in the room like a bolt of lightning. I froze. My sister faked a cough, got up, and abandoned us altogether! Every person in the room looked straight at Dad and me, and then to Mullet Man himself. I avoided even glancing in Mullet Man’s direction, but I could feel him looking at us. I broke out in a cold sweat, not knowing what to do or say. Then, I faked it. I turned to Dad and muttered, “Oh, you know, it’s a fish.”

It was the worst attempt at “covering a rear” in the history of the world. I just prayed that Dad wouldn’t ask another question. The whole room suffered in the extreme discomfort of the moment, except for Dad who was clueless.

Alas, I was the elephant in the room.