The o’fro is going grey. Right now it just looks like a few strands, but I think the whole thing is going to be snow white before you know it. It was not all that long ago that I thought the few strands were just catching the light differently, but they were really brown. Go go gadget denial! Now there is a snowy cast to the whole damn thing. I can think whatever I want, but the truth is I’m losing color in my hair.
The real question is not if this is happening but why I give a shit. It has always been pretty easy for me to scoff at the balding who would bemoan their hair loss. I am in absolutely no danger of losing my hair. But if I think I could be cool about losing it, why would I be uptight about it going grey?
What bothers me is not so much the indication that I am growing older. I was the youngest kid in my family, and often among the younger people wherever I have worked (I’ve done boring jobs that only grownups would take unless you were a nerd like me.) So having an attribute that makes me seem older is not necessarily a bad thing.
The problem, I think, is that I have no control over this process. This may be the first bodily process since I stopped getting taller over which I have no control. Yes, I have control over that other process. For the most part. Shut up. What I mean is that there is this thing happening, to me, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. Guess that’s sort of the definition of no control.
But why, why is this happening to me? One possible, but highly unlikely, answer is delayed onset Werner Syndrome. Not sure that has been formally categorized yet, but I’m betting it is possible. If not that, is it stress? Possible. Is it wisdom? Impossible. All that leaves us with is “normal aging process.” I think that’s bullshit mostly because I do not care to be classified as “normal” even though I mostly am.