Jon Reisman
In the late 1960’s my father took me to Broadway to see Hair. I still remember some of the lyrics from the title song:
She asks me why I'm just a hairy guy
I'm hairy, noon and night, hair, that's a fright
I'm hairy, high and low, don't ask me why, don't know
It's not for lack of bread like the Grateful Dead, darlin'