One of my oldest friends called me yesterday. She lived 10 minutes away from Robin Williams and wanted to talk about him. She'd recently seen him at a bookstore and one of her kids had gone to school with his stepdaughter. My friend and I are alike in many ways, but perhaps in one that is most important: suicide hits too close to home.
Scott P. Harris still suffered taunts and jibes, dumb or cruel redhead jokes, and apathy or downright rejection from women. Was he going to just put up and shut up? He decided not only not to, but to document his redheadedness, its perils and positives, pejorative comments and possibilities for red-haired men.