One Foot In The Grave

OK, I just want to bitch a little bit about getting older.

All you bloggeurs anciens can take a break. Head to the kitchen for more coffee. Go suck on a Geritol or something. This will sound extremely silly to you, 'cause it sounds extremely silly to me. Nevertheless, bitch I must.

OK, here's the deal... I found my first grey hair this morning. Tragic, huh?

All my friends are now saying "Dude! What's the big deal! Your head hair has been deserting you in mass quantities since 1993!" Well, in the grand scheme of things, it isn't a big deal. It is, however, one more rung on the Ladder of Antiquity that I've been climbing at an increasingly rapid pace.

I dunno, maybe it was a small point of pride that most of my friends have reached the salt & pepper stage, but I still had the same hair color as in high school. Well, the hair that you could see when not blinded by the sun's reflection off my ever-widening dome.

Dammit. Now that I take a close look (with a non-magnified mirror, my eyesight's just fine, thanks very much!) there's 3 or 4 grey hairs in my beard, too. Dammit, what's next? Liver spots? Cataracts?

Sigh. Maybe the Cadillac needs to stop being the PimpSled and become the AARP-mobile. I'll replace the mirrorball with a hot water bottle. Take the cooler out of the trunk and replace it with a box of Depends.

I hate getting older. Well, except for the being-out-of-touch-with-modern-music part. I get the feeling that I'm not missing a thing in that area.