n. A television journalist who is superficial or who is concerned with appearance more than substance.
2003
But Iffy's heart goes out to Cubs fans. After Florida had dispatched the Cubs, 9-6, in Game 7, Barnacle Bill urged Iffy to switch over to the Howard Stern show, but instead Iffy pointed his rabbit ear west and tuned in WGN, the Chicago station, just in time to see its talking hairdos interviewing fans on their way out of Wrigley.
1999
I don't know Dan Patrick, but I know this much: The fact that he's obsessed with his hair—indeed, pathologically sensitive about the whole of his physical appearance—doesn't make him an immodest or simple man.
"Talking hairdo," he sneers one afternoon at his desk, beneath a poster-sized blowup of a very young Muhammad Ali caught in midsentence at a lectern, in Black Muslim uniform, a Fruit of Islam cap on his head. "That's the worst thing you can say to somebody on TV: You're a talking hairdo, not a journalist. You get guys who just despise you. Don't they think I can write, that I study, that I know this stuff? Because I combed my hair today? Because I don't have mustard on my coat? Sorry—I like the way I look, and I'm on TV, and I gotta comb my hair. Don't hold that against me. Please. Be fair."
"Talking hairdo," he sneers one afternoon at his desk, beneath a poster-sized blowup of a very young Muhammad Ali caught in midsentence at a lectern, in Black Muslim uniform, a Fruit of Islam cap on his head. "That's the worst thing you can say to somebody on TV: You're a talking hairdo, not a journalist. You get guys who just despise you. Don't they think I can write, that I study, that I know this stuff? Because I combed my hair today? Because I don't have mustard on my coat? Sorry—I like the way I look, and I'm on TV, and I gotta comb my hair. Don't hold that against me. Please. Be fair."
1985 (earliest)
Another reason Hartigan isn't in a hurry to make his candidacy official is that his role as the state's attorney general will inevitably be judged somewhat differently, much as former Atty. Gen. Ty Fahner's grandstanding in the Tylenol probe and Thompson's intervention in the Dotson case were criticized by local TV's talking hairdos as—no kidding, folks—politically motivated.
This phrase was made famous by the social critic Neil Postman, who died on October 5. He used it in his 1985 book Amusing Ourselves to Death, a scathing critique of modern culture's "descent into vast triviality" where "television newscasters … spend more time with their hair dryers than with their scripts."