Going Gray. Feeling Blue.

No, I’m not dead. I know some of you may be wondering where I’ve been, as it’s been over two weeks since I’ve posted anything. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to write things the past weeks—there’s certainly been plenty to talk about—only to find myself unable to write anything. So, it’s not that I don’t have anything to say; it’s just that I haven’t been able to find the way to say everything on my mind. Some people call it writer’s block. I call it being lazy and feeling sorry for myself.

It seems like the last two weeks or so I’ve done little more than grapple with my worse-than-usual insomnia and stare at myself in the mirror as I obsess over my hair. More specifically, I’ve been obsessing over my lack of hair, and the disproportionate amount of hair that is gray. In other words, the last two weeks or so have been spent thinking about my receding hairline and how I’m going gray.

After ten years of growing my hair out, which resulted in a head full of dreadlocks, I shaved everything off back in 1997. I shaved my head because I was tired of people identifying me as “that guy with dreads,” and I felt that I needed to redefine myself. I also figured that I could always grow my hair back, if I felt so inclined. Little did I know that my hair had no plans of ever growing back the way it once was.

At first the receding hairline wasn’t that bad. It looked a bit like Sherman Hemsley, best known as George Jefferson on television’s The Jeffersons. Okay…I know some of you are thinking, “You know, that’s a pretty bad hairline.” And I would agree with you, if my hairline was that good, but my hairline now recedes far more than George Jefferson’s ever did, which is why I look at his balding head and think to myself, “Man, Sherman Hemsley sure has some good hair on his head.”

When my hairline was first going, it wasn’t as bad as it is now. But then it started turning grey. Suddenly, I was faced with the prospect of looking more like Fred Sanford (Redd Foxx) than George Jefferson. And even that wouldn’t have been so bad, if the hairline hadn’t continued to creep so far back. I could live with going bald and gray, as long as the hairline didn’t move so far to the back of my skull. But it did move that far back, and now, when I let my hair grow, I look like character actor Roscoe Lee Browne.

I realize all of this sounds ridiculous, and I know I shouldn’t let any of this get to me. The problem is that my birthday is about six weeks away and somehow turning 40 and having a head of hair that makes me look like Roscoe Lee Browne has got me feeling a little blue. Sure, there are other things that have me feeling terrible—the economy, the election, the new Fall television schedule—but fuck it, nothing makes you feel quite as depressed as the thought of admiring the hair of Sherman Hemsley. But at the same time, I can’t use that as an excuse to crawl under a rock and not get anything done.

So, I was gone for about two weeks, and I’m sure that at least one of you missed me. I still haven’t been able to accept the fact that I’ve gone bald and I’m going grey. And turning 40 has me feeling a bit like that Edvard Munch painting, “the Scream.” But I’m not going to use any of these ridiculous reasons to keep me from doing the things I need to do.


One Response to “Going Gray. Feeling Blue.”

  1. gkleinman Says:

    Getting old is a friggin bitch. I feel your pain man.

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