Nuclia Waste and The Mile Hi Hair Ball

An interview by Steve Strontium (aka Christopher Stevens)

Nuclia Waste greets me graciously in the parlor of her palatial home, Rocky Flats.  It takes me a few moments to figure out what is odd in this otherwise normal, stadium-size, Louis XIV room.  Then I realize- in the dim evening light, the room is bright as day, and there are no lamps.   Light emanates from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and the furniture, the result, explains my hostess, of the energy the building has absorbed from her during her years in it.  Coming from everywhere, the light casts no shadows- excellent for reading, but it must be hell on a hangover.  I have come to interview the chatelaine of Rocky Flats about the upcoming Mile Hi Hair Ball, and about her singularly glamorous life.  The Princess of Plutonium is quite forthcoming, utterly charming, and bewitchingly beautiful.  Her beauty is congenital, if not “natural,” as most people would define the word.  She’s the kind of girl more likely to be found at the Geiger counter than the Clinique counter.  I talk with Nuclia:

Me: Nuclia, thank you for taking the time to see me.  I know you’re a busy girl.  What is the typical Nuclia day like?

NW:  Well, my day begins at six or so.  You probably know that I don’t sleep, per se, but spend a few hours a night in my regeneration chamber.  It’s very refreshing, and gives me time to meditate.  Anyway, six is generally the time that Gaytor, my genetically altered alligator, starts roaring for his breakfast.  He’s terribly lazy, so I make him work for his food with a half-hour or so of vigorous wrestling.  This also gives me a good workout and an appetite for my own breakfast.  You should try alligator wrestling, by the way.  Keeps the reflexes in tip-top form, I can tell you.  Then it’s time for breakfast- usually a Plutoniomelet.  You just scramble the eggs, pour them into a plate, put some plutonium on top, and fold it up.  The filling cooks the eggs, so no stove is required.  The rest of the day is a whirl.  There’s fan mail, of course.  I answer every email personally.  And then I pop in to check on the students at the Nuclia Waste School of Cosmetology and Taxidermy.

Me:  Cosmetology and Taxidermy?  That seems an odd combination.

NW:  Not at all!  The goal of both arts is the same- you want your subject to look as life-like as possible.  Sometimes I let the more gifted students work on me.

Me:  Unnecessary, surely!  Gilding gold, as it were.

NW:  Flatterer.  There’s a lot to be said for preternatural beauty, but it doesn’t hurt to optimize.  Besides, my students need something to strive for, and if you can improve on this, you’ve got some talent.

And then there are public appearances.  I appeared at a local mall recently, and the ensuing chaos was such that I had to be escorted from the premises for my own safety.  I’ve also been spending a great deal of time reviewing proposals for Nuclia Waste merchandise.  I’ve put it off and put it off, because it seems so vain, and I’m just a simple girl from Rocky Flats.  But public demand has been so great, and after I saw those bootleg Nuclia candy panties- well, something had to be done.  My T-shirt is selling well, so I’m looking into lunch boxes, inflatable pool toys, camping equipment, and items for the boudoir- an asbestos negligee, perhaps, and marabou mules.  Like bunny slippers, but with my face on them.  All still in the talking phase; nothing settled.  Of course, the Hair Ball itself is enough to keep me busy.  So it’s a full day.

Me:  “Idle hands are the Devil’s playground.”

NW:  Darling, why stop at the hands?  But you’re right.  If Beelzebub is looking to play, I’m sorry but this swing-set is occupied twenty-four-seven!

Me:  So, no time for romance, either?

NW:  Ah, l’amour!  In less hectic times there have been suitors, and I’ve been quite serious about one or two.  But they all succumb to some strange malady.  Their hair falls out, they develop anemia, and then they’re gone.  Mysterious and sad.

Me:  How tragic, for you as well as them.  Do you find solace is spirituality?  Do you believe in an afterlife?

NW:  I believe in a half-life, and mine is so long that the afterlife hardly bears thinking about.  Other peoples’ lives are so very short, and yet half a life is all they seem to live.  I see that as my mission- to wake folks up to the joy that’s just waiting to be had.  In a way, I see myself as a clown, not just for people to laugh at, but to take as an example.  Everyone can’t be the Princess of Plutonium, but there’s no reason they shouldn’t have - and be - almost as much fun.  That’s what my Mile Hi Hair Ball is all about.

Me:  Nice segue.  Do go on.

NW:  Well, of course, I coughed up the Hair Ball as a fund-raiser for Project Angel Heart…

Me:  Yes, why Project Angel Heart, by the way?

NW:   It’s all about manners.  I noticed that Angel Heart is one of a very few charities that actually thanks its donors personally. No matter how small your donation, you get a Thank You card for it, which I thought was just so sweet.  And so they’re getting this soiree out of it, so you see how a little Emily Post can pay off in a big way.  And the Hair Ball is based on the same principle.  Rather than just asking folks for money, we’re sending them away with something- at least the memory of a fabulous party, and possibly a whole new world-view.

Me:  You fascinate me.  Continue.

NW:  I see hair as a powerful force, personally and globally.  Look at history, or hairstory, as I like to call it.  In the Renaissance it was all those coils and braids.  And in the 18th century women had wigs four feet tall, and men wore those adorable powdered perukes.  And then the Victorians.  “A woman’s hair is her crowning glory,” and all that, and they went in for some mighty big crowns if you look at Grandma’s photos.  But it was always the idle rich who had all the hair, and all the fun.  Then what happened?  The rich girls bobbed their hair in the early 1900’s, and it’s been nothing but war, pestilence, and global warming ever since.

Me:  But what about the 50’s and 60’s?  The bouffant era?

NW:  True.  But by then, advances by Lilt and Aquanet had allowed anyone to have Big Hair, and when the rich girls noticed that, they all got shag haircuts.  Big Hair has been scorned ever since, and the world situation has not improved.  It should be just the opposite- now that anyone can have Big Hair, they should have it!  How have we missed the connection between Big Hair and a big outlook, big dreams, big fun?

It’s been growing back lately, though.  There were the B-52’s, bless them, then there was Wigstock and Wigs on Fire, and now John Waters’ “Hairspray” is the toast of the Broadway season.  More hair, more joy!  It’s so obvious!  Oh, look.  Now you’ve got me started.

Me:  Not at all.  So the Mile Hi Hair Ball is…

NW:  Rogaine for the soul!  Barrel curls for the benighted!  A rat-tail comb in the eye of repression!  And it’s not just a girl thing, or a drag queen thing, or a gay thing.  It’s a head thing- anyone who has one ought to be doing something with it.  Wigs have never been just a feminine thing.  Sure you can be Marge Simpson, or Dolly Parton, or a Sweet Potato Queen.  But you can also be Krusty the Klown, or William Shatner, or an alien, or your own teased-up, henna-headed, whacked-out twin.  Marilyn Monroe or a Mohawk – it doesn’t matter.  I want everyone to come.  Be someone else for a while, and I bet you’ll find parts of yourself you never noticed before.

Me:  Well, I can see nobody’s going to crimp your style.  Your hair, of course, is naturally bodacious.  Do you anticipate any of the Hair Ballers out-doing your do?

NW:  Wouldn’t that be marvelous?  I do hope they do, but it’ll take some doing.  I’ll be sporting several looks that night, including my biggest hair yet!

Me:  And that’s saying something.  Can you give us some idea of – I don’t know – circumference?

NW:  [Laughs] Well, it’s bigger than a bread box…

Me:  So are we talking Volkswagen, or what?

NW:  Mmmmm… Maybe a small Volkswagen.  I don’t want to give too much away.

Me:  Understood.  You certainly have plenty of energy, but you’re not putting on the Ball all by yourself, are you?

NW:  Heavens, no!  The first step after thinking it up, was to gather a select cadre of capable people who have done a fabulous job of putting the whole thing together.  Divine beings, all of them.  And before this one has even happened, we’re working on next year.  Bigger, more glamorous.  And if we could add Aquanet to the list of sponsors, that’d be a real coup.

Me:  Well, I won’t keep you from it.  Any final thoughts for our readers?

NW:  Just that I want everybody to be there.  Comb on down, but take your curling-iron supplement first, because you’ll want to stay ‘til the split end.  And remember – It’s never too late to have a happy childhood!

(Steve Strontium reporting for Reactor DeCore)