People are obsessed with hair.

Cutting hair, shaving their hair, having more hair, growing hair, getting rid of hair, weaving hair, donating hair to people who don’t have hair, dying their hair, making wigs out of real human hair, having dogs that have human hair instead of fur, and a myriad of other hair-obsessed questions, debates and discussions. Hair, it seems, is the perfect subject matter for WFME’s Burning Question.

That question? How much hair is too much hair?

Seemingly, there’s no rhyme or reason to what level of hairness is a good or bad thing. In fact, we here at WFME put together a little list of hair options and rated them with a good or a bad ranking. You’ll see, as we did, that unless you’re that guy who is the main character in The DaVinci Code, you won’t be figuring out the key to good/bad hair quotients anytime soon. Here, look:

• Lots of Hair on Head: Good. You’re like Samson.
• Lots of Hair in a Beard: Bad. You’re like a homeless guy.
• Lots of Hair on Your Arms: Bad. People call you Bigfoot.
• Lots of Hair in a Moustache: Good. You’re clever, intelligent.
• No Hair on Your Head: Bad. You look old. No testosterone.
• Lots of Hair on Your Back: Bad. You’re like a carpet, and in a love relationship, people don’t like carpet. They like hard wood floors. And hard wood floors is the new hairless back, FYI.
• Lots of Hair on Your Palms: Bad bad bad bad bad, Mr. Werewolf.
• No Hair on Your Stomach: Good. Look at that six-pack!
• No Hair Just Right Below Your Male Stomach: Bad. You’re no man.
• No Hair Just Right Below Your Female Stomach: Good. You’re sexy.

Do I even need to continue? Do I need to boot up the Powerpoint or Excel spreadsheet to illustrate the other 499 positive and negative hair quotient questions that, in a nutshell, have convinced me that there is no rhyme or reason to the more hair/less hair burning question of life?

No, I didn’t think so.

So, in an attempt to provide WFME’s readers with an answer to today’s burning question, we have come up with a helpful flow chart that will allow you to determine if your friend/co-worker/partner/etc has too much hair or too little hair on certain areas of their body and whether or not you will need to have a hair intervention or not.

Step #1: Does the bodypart in question, have more hair than the amount that could fit in a breadbox, or less hair than the amount that could fit in a breadbox. If there’s more hair, go to Step #10. If there’s less hair, go to Step #2.

Step #2: Is the hair coarse like an evil witch’s mole hair or soft like chenille? If the hair is coarse, go to Step #5. If the hair is like chenille, go to Step #3.

Step #3: Since the hair is soft, does it move when you blow at it? Or does it stand, unmoving, like a dead piece of hair? If it stands, unmoving, it is bad hair. Bad bad bad bad bad. Shave it, pluck it, or do something to kill it off. If it does move, go to Step #4.

Step #4: Congratulations! The hair is good hair. Rejoice in it!

Step #5: Since the hair is coarse, rub it back and forth between two fingers. Does it cause static electricity? Or does it tangle up? If it causes static electricity, go to Step #7. If it tangles up, go to Step #6.

Step #6: Sorry. The hair is bad hair. Have you heard of Nair? Remove it immediately through amateur or professional means.

Step #7: Since the hair has static electricity, it is a conductor for electricity. This is a good thing. As long as the hair isn’t on top of said person’s head (read: thunder storms). If the hair is on the head, go to Step #8. If the hair isn’t on the head, go to Step #9.

Step #8: Bad hair. Shave it off.

Step #9: No matter where this hair is (other than the head) it’s a good thing. It’s a source of electricity, but not dangerous to be out in public during a thunder storm. Congratulations.

Step #10: More hair than a breadbox? That’s bad, no matter where it is. A breadbox holds a lot of hair (er, bread).

While it seems perfectly horrific for a hair stylist to point out you’ve got a bald spot on your head…and while I’m sure that it’s against the National Hair Sylist’s Code of Conduct to ever tell their clients that they’re losing their hair (for without clients and without hair there would be no hair sylists)… I’m not quite sure how to feel about the most recent “honest revelation” that she made in our last session.

That revelation: my hair stylist says my sideburn has a bald spot.

The moment it occured, I have to honestly say that I was taken aback. I mean, with most men you never kid about certain things. Those things? You never tell a guy he’s small, short, dwarflike, mini, has small hands or reminds you of your sister’s doll. You also never question his manhood, his ability to father a child or the fact that he may very well be losing hair in wanted places and gaining hair in unwanted places (i.e., ear lobes, neck, back, shoulders, eyelids, et al). But the sideburn coefficient treads lightly into the unknown area of male confidence.

Should the fact that my hair stylist thinks my right sideburn has a bald spot affect my ego?

When you start losing the hair on your head, there’s a distinct result that occurs. You look older, you may think people find you less attractive or that it reduces your sexual appeal (although Patrick Stewart might disagree with you) and it often psychologically causes people to do scary things with the wispy layers of hair they have left (see: combover). But what, psychologically, does having a sideburn bald spot do to the psyche?

For me, finding out I had a sideburn baldspot would have simply made me laugh. That is, until I had this soul-shaking conversation with my hair stylist:

Her: “I should probably take those sideburns up a bit.”
Me: “Naw, let’s leave them a little longer this time.”
Her: “Are you sure?”
Me: “Am I sure? Sure I’m sure. Why do you…?
Her: “Well…your right sideburn has a bald spot.”
Me: “My right sideburn has a bald spot?”
Her: “Yeah. Here. Look.”
Me: “I never noticed that before.”
Her: “Well I usually just take your sideburns down a bit so no one can see that you’re rapidly developing a sideburn bald spot.”
Me: “Rapidly…developing a sideburn bald spot?”
Her: “Should I not have said anything?”
Me: “Um… No, that’s fine.”
Her: “Look, I’ll just trim them shorter. No one will have to know.”
Me: “You make it sound like I have a contagious disease or something…”
Her: “Well, sideburn bald spots are the result of the body’s increased levels of certain chemicals…”
Me: “But it’s not a DISEASE.”
Her: “Let me just trim these sideburns shorter…you’ll thank me later.”

I’ll thank you later?

I would have much rather walked around oblivious with my horrific sideburn bald spot, happily jaunting around Los Angeles, going about my business instead of her pointing it out. Now, I’m faced with a secret that will only show it’s ugly face when I’ve let my sideburns grow a bit. And then, when they do — what will people around me think?

“Oh, how sad for him. He’s going bald in his right sideburn.”

You know, doesn’t the world (and all of us) have enough problems to deal with than to add another ailment to the mix? Aren’t we all struggling with accepting ourselves and the rest of the human beings around us without having to start second guessing our sideburns? Can’t hair stylists just continue to let their clients live in a dream world where highlights, combovers and sideburn bald spots exist together in a happy vacuum?

Apparently not, people. Apparently not.