Grey hairs.
On the top of me head.
Screaming at me.
I'm sure other people of my generation (born in the 1980's still a kid in the 1990's) will be suffering from this same predicament either soon or have already started noticing the debilitating signs of aging thus far. For some reason my head has decided to become as lazy as the rest of me is in style. The very pigment of my hair color has gotten too lazy to continue living!
A laughable moment, yes. A strangely sobering moment, yes. But also a moment of reflection and a tug at my chest as I realize that I'm only 27 years old and grey hair shouldn't be popping out of my thick dark, dark, almost black, brown hair. Not yet.
Am I right?
Probably more people will be agreeing with me my while rubbing their long, pigment endowed locks than not, but what bothers me the most is how much I'm not concerned by this.
What?! Not Concerned? You're complaining and yet you say you're not concerned?!
Thats right.
For some reason I find myself musing at the idea of age with a resigned and complacent attitude. This is stranger to me than the idea that I'll probably be fully grey before I'm 35. Why aren't I bothered? Lets face it, I thought I would be married by the age of eighteen! Not because I was in love but because Princess Jasmine was married at sixteen and I could afford to wait a few years. A few grey hairs now and a full grey head soon isn't the pendulum of doom.
A few years ago I went through a pre-mid life crisis.
In other words, I hit age 22.
Like most kids from the era of Michael Jackson and Furby dolls I thought I would have lived a full life of Panda Saving Heroics in China and Orca rescuing romps in California way before I reached the old old age of 21.
Ah yes. The Pandas!
And the Orcas.When I hit 22 I realized I had failed all my worthy youth inspired dreams and to top it off, I wasn't rich and didn't own a car.
Its hard to face facts. When I hit age 24 I got it especially bad and even thought I had failed at life when I hadn't published a book or written a hit song or become an international personage of Mystery and Awesomeness!
But instead of falling into a pit of miserable despair something happened when I hit the old age 27. I stopped worrying.
I stopped worrying about the high expectations of the world and the one in ten million Miley Cyrus idea that if you don't make it when you're very young you should just give up. I stopped trying to hurry up and make something of myself. My parents love me the way I am right now because they know I'm trying as hard as I can to be someone they can be proud of. And even if I never become that person I hope to become they'll still love me.
And the world can suck it.
So I'm back to looking at the mirror at my grey hairs and thinking about the fact I've already passed the quarter century block and not yet found my magic carpet and you know what?
I'm going to be just fine.
And so are you, cowboys.
-Mar
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