the comment came on facebook where this unnamed individual had the unmitigated gall to say, “Uh….Scott….did you dye your hair BLONDE???!?!?!?!” and my response was along the lines of, “why are you picking on me? it’s gray – don’t be a meanie!”
i’ve had gray in my hair since the tender age of 16 when a quarter-size patch appeared near my hairline. it’s not a big deal, really.
but i’ll never forget the day ten or so years ago when i almost bought the farm because of gray hair.
lise and i were out together for the day. we were living in maryland and had driven up to lancaster, pennsylvania to drive around, get some lunch, shop amish, and enjoy the time with each other. it was approaching evening with the orange sun setting fire to the ground in the direction we’re heading. i was driving down the narrow road, shared with amish horse-and-buggy types in both directions, when, out of nowhere, lise swings her arm over and whacks me square in the chest, exclaiming, “Oh My Gosh!!!”
well, i about drove into a ditch, taking a couple bonnet-capped mennonites with us.
“what on earth’s going on?!? why are you hitting me and scaring me? What? WHAT??”
“you’ve got a gray hair in your beard!”
“WHA??? you almost get us KILLED because of a gray hair in my BEARD??”
we’ve laughed every time the story has been told in the intervening years, but at that point i was ready to open the passenger side door and leave her with electricity-less ones.Â thankfully her response was redeeming and to the point: “well, i still love you, even if you are old and gray.”
and indeed, that gray hair mated with others and their ilk have spread throughout my facial hair.
it’s not a big deal. really.