I found a gray hair this morning. After plucking it out of my skull with extreme prejudice, I somberly paraded it out to the black glass range-top, against which I could better examine this reminder that I’m no longer 10 years old. It had very fine texture. The kind of texture that holds a curl until loosed from the curling iron, after which it falls drab and flat. So I’m basically going to be bald. Because I will continue to pluck those suckers out one at a time.
There seems to be no logical alternative as my hair-stylist is now retired. The one I just found after three traumatic years of being experimented upon by mental patients with epilepsy. Could just shave it all off right now and be done with it except that it’s cold outside today. Maybe when summer hits in earnest.