I’ve always looked forward to growing old. I think it’s mostly because as you get older people start forgiving more and more of what you do, until you can just be a dirty old man that everyone laughs off. Think about it, you know I’m right.
On another note, I (like most men) do not enjoy shaving. I know it’s not a surprise, but, unlike most people, I never held a job that required frequent shaving. I didn’t have to meet important people or anything like that. I could shave when it was needed and get away with only doing it every two weeks or so.
Now that those two things are out of the way I can get into the actual meat of the post.
As most of you probably know, November is actually Movember (if you don’t know it’s the month where guys grow out staches and raise money for prostate cancer research). While I didn’t participate in it, I did take the opportunity to go quite a while without shaving. With my beard getting quite long I was able to notice a few things about it, most noticeably that I have a few hairs going…WHITE!
At 29 years old I have my first white hair! I say that not with fear, but with excitement. For while I can’t grow a great beard or anything (it’s a bit too scraggly to really have a good one), if it was white I could get away with a lot more.
But while my beard might be getting white, I’m also waving goodbye to my hairline. It’s apparently getting more and more scared of my face and keeps running away. Also, it appears as those there’s a pattern on the top rear of my head that is becoming bald. I knew this was coming too (my dad started balding WAY early), which is why I took advantage of my hair earlier in life with hairstyles like beads & braids, long-ish hair, flat tops, hair that I actually brushed and parted, I had a fro a few times and, last but CERTAINLY not least, my most impressive hairstyle. Cornrows. That’s right, this lily white boy had cornrows for a week.
I figure in about 10 years I’ll be shaving my head with a razor (or Bic-ing as I like to call it) and have a decently white beard.
Then I’ll have the PERFECT excuse to get fat and call myself Santa (the hat can cover the baldness)! People will come from miles around to see the awesome Santa that our neighborhood has and I can lie to my grandchildren and have them believe their old man is Santa. How perfect is that?
Merry Christmas everyone!