HAIR THEY ARE

I just wanna be myself and I want you to know / I am my hair

— Lady Gaga, “Hair,” 2001

THE PRECEDING LINE could have been written by King Louis XIV, who started losing his mane at seventeen and responded by donning wigs so large and outlandish that Lady Gaga might be tempted to say, “Hey, tone it down, dude.”

Teens have been obsessed with their hair for centuries, none more than the fictional Marcia Brady, who brushed her luscious locks 100 times a day. A modeling agent in The Brady Bunch Movie (1995) ignited her fury by suggesting she could make it in the fashion industry with a little work, like

“… cutting that mousy hair, capping those teeth, and losing about 30 pounds, my little sausage. How do you feel about breast implants?”

Outraged, Marcia slapped him and declared, “Cut my hair?”

Here are more teens, real and fictional, who made a statement with their hair:

Football fundamentals: blocking, tackling, acting and singing

AS A YOUNG OREGON SPORTSWRITER in the 1980s, I never saw a high school quarterback who could throw and act like Terrell (Texas) High’s Jamie Foxx or catch and sing like Gibbs (Tennessee) High’s Kenny Chesney.

Ed Asner played on the offensive line at Wyandotte High in Kansas.RAZ

Then again, I never saw any high school plays or heard any teenage garage bands back then. There could have been a singing southern Oregon linebacker or thespian tackle who escaped my notice — and everyone else’s. If any 1980s-era southern Oregon football players made it as entertainment or political superstars, they’ve kept it awfully quiet.

There’s nothing quiet about the following, who have made more noise on the stage, screen, or stump than they did on the high school football field. In fact, the only restriction for this list is the person cannot be a former NFL star, like Michael Strahan, or college football superstar, like Cornell’s Ed Marinaro, who finished second to Pat Sullivan in the 1971 Heisman Trophy voting.

Let me know if I’ve missed on any first-rate celebrities with prep football backgrounds —I’m sure I have.

QUARTERBACKS: Jamie Foxx, Terrell High (Texas), class of 1986. Phil Robertson, North Caddo High (Vivian, Louisiana), 1965. Forest Whitaker, Palisades High (California), 1979.

MY ONLY BEEF with Foxx’s Oscar-winning performance as Ray Charles (Ray, 2004) was all that beef on his arms, which looked buff from lifting weights, not bruised with heroin needles. Foxx passed for more than 1,000 yards in high school and later portrayed a football player in Any Given Sunday (1999).

Phil robertson as a clean-cut QB and as a hirsute celebrity.

Robertson is that “Duck Dynasty” guy; he later played college ball with Terry Bradshaw at Louisiana Tech. Whitaker’s burly physique seems more suited for linebacker, which he played in Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982), than quarterback. Mark Harmon (“St. Elsewhere,” 1982-88) also played high school and college QB, but what’s the big deal? His dad was Michigan legend and 1940 Heisman Trophy winner Tom Harmon.

RUNNING BACKS: Burt Reynolds, Palm Beach High (Florida), 1954. Dwight D. Eisenhower, Abilene High (Kansas), 1910. James Caan, Rhodes Preparatory School (New York City), 1957. Willie Nelson, Abbott High (Texas), 1951. Patrick Swayze, Waltrip High (Houston, Texas), 1971. George Strait, Pearsall High (Texas), 1970.

Reynolds and Caan looked like athletes and played major college football, the former at Florida State and the latter at Michigan State. Although he’d been acting for a decade, Caan got his big break by playing real-life running back Brian Piccolo in the 1971 TV movie “Brian’s Song.” Reynolds portrayed football players in The Longest Yard (1974) and Semi-Tough (1977).

Doonesbury’s Zonker Harris enjoyed the occasional huddle toke. That looks like football, Willie Nelson-style.

It’s hard to imagine Willie Nelson (“On the Road Again,” 1980) as a high school jock, although it’s easier if you picture him as someone like Zonker Harris from Doonesbury, firing up a blunt in the huddle.

Former five-star general and 34^th president Eisenhower ranks with Gerald Ford as our finest football-playing chiefs, although the tall and freakishly strong Abe Lincoln could’ve made a dominating, Ted Hendricks-type linebacker.

Strait (“All My Exes live in Texas,” 1987) and Swayze (Dirty Dancing, 1987) are two more Texans, which begs the question: Is high school football a prerequisite to show-biz stardom in the Lone Star State? Sure seems like it.

WIDE RECEIVERS / TIGHT END: Kenny Chesney, Gibbs High (Luttrell, Tennessee), 1986. Ashton Kutcher, Clear Creek-Amana High (Tiffin, Iowa), 1996. Matthew Fox, Wind River High (Pavillion, Wyoming), Deerfield Academy (Massachusetts), 1984. Nick Nolte, Benson High, Westside High (both in Omaha, Nebraska), 1959.

Nolte, the tight end in this group, portrayed a creaky wide receiver in North Dallas Forty (1979, right). Chesney is one of many high-school-athletes-turned-country-music-stars, a category that includes Tammy Wynette, an all-state basketball player in Mississippi. “Lost” (2004-10) star Matthew Fox went on to play at Columbia University, where the Lions lost 38 out of 40 games — talk about lost. Kutcher (“That 70s Show,” 1998-06) played linebacker as well as wide receiver in high school and has been an assistant coach at Harvard-Westlake High in North Hollywood.

OFFENSIVE LINE: John Wayne, Glendale High (California), 1925. Tommy Lee Jones, St. Mark’s School (Dallas, Texas), 1965. Joe Don Baker, Groesbeck High (Texas), 1954. Ed Asner, Wyandotte High (Kansas), 1948. Hoyt Axton, Robert E. Lee High (Jacksonville, Florida), 1956. Brian Dennehy, Chaminade High (Mineola, New York), 1956. Gerald Ford, South High (Grand Rapids, Michigan), 1931. Warren Beatty, Washington-Lee High (Arlington, Virginia), 1955.

Harvard’s Tommy Lee Jones, number 61, leads the way on this run.

Wayne (Stagecoach, 1939) who played at USC, and Jones (No Country for Old Men, 2087) who played at Harvard, are the Oscar-winning guards. Jones started for the 1968 college squad that scored 16 points in the final 42 seconds to tie Yale; he is featured prominently in the 2008 documentary, Harvard Beats Yale 29-29.

Ford, the 38^th president (right) and Beatty hiked the ball, although the future star of Heaven Can Wait (1979) looked nothing like a hard-nosed center — he was too lean and far too handsome to be a member of the “big uglies,” which is what sportscaster Keith Jackson called offensive linemen. Ed Asner (“The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” 1970-77), Joe Don Baker (Walking Tall, 1973), and Brian Dennehy (First Blood, 1982) are bigger and less comely than Beatty, although some would describe them as ruggedly handsome rather than homely.

The Axton family had a good year in 1956: Mae Boren Axton’s “Heartbreak Hotel” made Elvis Presley a superstar, and her son Hoyt earned a scholarship offer to Oklahoma State. The Axton boy would later write “Joy to the World (Jeremiah was a bullfrog)” for Three Dog Night.

DEFENSIVE LINE: Chris Farley, Edgewood High (Madison, Wisconsin), 1982. Toby Keith, Moore High (Oklahoma), 1979. Terrence Malick St. Stephen’s Episcopal (Austin, Texas), 1961. Dwayne Johnson (the Rock), Freedom High (Bethlehem, Pennsylvania), 1990. Ed O’Neill, Ursuline High (Youngstown, Ohio), 1964. John Goodman, Affton High (St. Louis, Missouri), 1970.

Patrick Swayze and Chris Farley both played high school football. Take a guess: which one played running back, and which played nose tackle?

A 5-foot-8, 215-pound nose tackle, Farley (Tommy Boy, 1995) was agile, energetic, and apparently quite good. It’s easy to imagine the Rock (The Tooth Fairy, 2010) and wide-bodied John Goodman (“Roseanne,” 1988-97) stuffing the line, but high school linemen didn’t get much better than Ed O’Neill, who portrayed Al Bundy on “Married with Children.” O’Neill went on to play at Youngstown State and signed as an undrafted free agent with the Steelers. They cut him in favor of a couple of other rookie defensive linemen, Joe Greene and L.C. Greenwood.

Malick’s face and physique are unfamiliar to most of us because he’s a behind-the-camera guy with Oscar nominations for directing The Thin Red Line (1998) and The Tree of Life (2011). Toby Keith had a huge-selling 2003 duet with former running back Willie Nelson (“Beer for My Horses”) as well as 19 solo number-one country singles.

LINEBACKERS: John Belushi, Wheaton Central (Illinois), 1967. Brett Michaels, Mechanicsburg High (Pennsylvania), 1981. Jon Hamm, John Burroughs School (Ladue, Missouri), 1989. Chris Klein, Millard West (Omaha, Nebraska), 1997. Kris Kristofferson, San Mateo (California), 1954.

Michaels, who became lead singer for the rock band Poison (“Every Rose Has its Thorn,” 1988) two years after high school, also played quarterback and defensive end. Kristofferson portrayed a pro wide receiver and the best buddy of running back Burt Reynolds in Semi-Tough (1977), and Klein played an injured quarterback reluctantly running for class president in 1999’s Election.

Jon Hamm looking football buff.

Belushi (Animal House, 1978) may have honed his physical comedy skills on the football field; it’s a shame he never made a “Samurai linebacker” sketch during his days on “Saturday Night Live.” While Hamm (“Mad Men,” 2007-15) played football, his real sports passion was baseball. He played catcher in high school and was best friends with John Simmons, son of long-time Cardinals catcher Ted Simmons.

DEFENSIVE BACKS: Lee Majors, Middlesboro High (Kentucky), 1957. Bill Cosby, Germantown High (Philadelphia), 1953. Dean Cain, Santa Monica (California), 1984. Ryan Seacrest, Dunwoody High (Georgia), 1993.

These actors are often listed as former high school defensive backs, but it’s hard to find specific details about their positions (were they cornerbacks or safeties?). They may have been two-way players who garnered more attention for their offensive skills.

American Idle: Ryan Seacrest grabs a breather during a high school football game.

Raise your hand if you’re surprised to find Ryan Seacrest (“American Idol,” 2002-14) on this list.

Majors (“The Six Million Dollar Man,” 1974-78), originally named Harvey Lee Yeary, took his last name from a former Heisman hopeful from the University of Tennessee — Johnny Majors. Runner-up to Paul Hornung in the 1957 Heisman, the earlier Majors may be more familiar to college football fans as head coach of the national champion Pittsburgh Panthers team of 1976, as well as a long-time coach at his alma mater, Tennessee.

Cosby (“The Cosby Show,” 1984-92) dropped out of high school after the 10^th grade to join the Navy. At Temple University, he excelled at a number of track events (high jump, shot put, low hurdles, javelin and discus) and played fullback on the football team.

Dean Cain (“Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman,” 1993-97) was a superb all-around athlete who played football at Princeton and signed as a free agent with the Buffalo Bills. A knee injury ended any hopes of a pro career.

Years before playing the Gipper in “Knute Rockne: All American,” Ronald Reagan played football for real at Dixon High in Illinois.

KICKER / PUNTER: Will Ferrell, University High (Irvine, California), 1986. Ronald Reagan, Dixon High (Illinois), 1928. Dwight D. Eisenhower, Abilene High (Kansas), 1910.

Ferrell’s (Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy, 2004) field-goal kicking was no joke: He made 14 field goals and 41 extra points his senior year (although he also missed nine PATs). Reagan, the 40^th president, could do just fine as the punter, but the multi-skilled Ike is around just in case.

When Hollywood gets high school right

IT’S EASY TO GROAN over high school movies that swarm with supermodel-looking teens and nice-kid-beats-the-bullies storylines, but sometimes film and TV scripts contain plot points that breathe a little realism.

While I’m no expert on what can and can’t happen in high school, I would (and will) argue that the following characters and conceits are, sometimes, rooted in fact.

1. The Wally Cleaver-Eddie Haskell syndrome

Forced to fashion a likable character, scriptwriters often pair him (or her) with an obnoxious, wisecracking pal. That combination reached its peak, or maybe its nadir, with the bromance of “Leave it to Beaver’s” Wally and his two-faced, scheming sidekick, Eddie.

Were they unlikely friends? Sure. Impossible? Not at all. A fictional pairing of the Dalai Lama racing around Europe in an Alfa Romeo with crime-solving partner O.J. Simpson would be ridiculous (and awesome!), but youthful friendships can defy all logic.

Think about it: Did you never meet a really nice guy or girl, only to find that his/her best friend was the scion of Satan? Or shudder in the presence of a reprehensible creep who unveiled a friend/boyfriend/girlfriend who seemed sweeter than Tupelo honey.

I have. And I’m sure I’m not alone.

2. The can’t-leave-high-school-behind syndrome

Matthew McConaughey’s Dazed and Confused (1993) character (above) spoke for thousands of 20-something sleazebags when he said, “That’s what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, and they stay the same age.”

Back in my day (the late-1970s), I’d see guys with bad mustaches cruise through our high school parking lot in their Trans-Ams and Camaro Z-28s at the end of the day. Some of them could have had slightly younger, still-in-high-school girlfriends, but others seemed to be well past 18 and on the prowl. Yeech!

 3. The married-to-the-job syndrome

“I’m a single, successful guy,” Judge Reinhold’s Brad (below) says in Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982), basking in his status as shift manager at All-American Burger. While he had a girlfriend (briefly), a few pals, and a charming old car, Brad invested most of his self-worth in his jobs.

In my teens, I washed dishes, bused tables, and broiled burgers at eateries that teemed with starved-for-success kids — including me. Some places, including Burger King, rewarded the most dedicated youngsters with a title, “assistant manager.” Employees received no raise with this ersatz promotion, but it sure made them feel good. One of my employers had about seven assistant managers doing the same work as everyone else. Except they worked even harder.

4. The biased-teacher syndrome

In the Harry Potter movies, Severus Snape (left) expresses contempt for the hero and preference for students from Slytherin. He gives Draco Malfoy and company the best grades and downgrades the work of Gryffindor students.

Rotten teachers are rarely so open with their biases, but that doesn’t mean they (the teachers and their biases) don’t exist. I once had an English teacher, Mr. Howard, who fawned over every popular kid in class and all but spit on losers like me. I was a decent student, despite my bottom-feeder social status, but that didn’t prevent Mr. Howard from slapping Cs on all my work and cringing in my presence.

I had loads of great teachers in high school, but when I remember Mr. Howard I still get chills. Given a choice, I’d take Professor Snape.

5. The secretely-mean syndrome

If we’ve learned anything from high school romances, it’s that the perfect guy will prove to be a lying jerk and the acid-tongued girl will be hiding a heart of gold. Which sounds like tripe, except it’s not. I’ve found, in high school and beyond, that a lot of the everyone-loves-’em types are more manipulative than they seem and, given a choice, will support the strong and bash the weak.

I witnessed this as a high school freshman when an older kid named Rory showed me around the school. Sounds nice, but he acted like he wanted to flush me down a toilet as soon as we left the smiling secretaries at the office. He was brusque and rude and yet later I must have overheard a half-dozen girls gush about how “nice” he was.