Monday, February 20, 2006

Folic Migration

You don't know what you've got 'till it's gone.

Or going, as my case may be.

You see, twice today it was pointed out to me that I'm "getting a bit thin on top." I'm not sure I like that connotation, as I'm getting fatter everywhere, but thin where I don't want to be.
Alas, as I creep into my old age, I thought that other things would leave me first. I assumed libido and sense of humor would leave me long before my hair did. Yet I'm incredibly funny, and randy as a goat. Go figure.

It's not that it's a large area. It's not. It's only viewable from above, or above and behind. But I know it's there, and like I said, two people commented on it today. Normally it would not bother me, but for some reason hair was on my mind today. (I have mentioned I do daydream at times.) There's nothing I can do about it, and it doesn't really bother me all that much, so don't think I'll bust out the spray-on hair, or the Burt Reynolds custom rug. That's just a little too shallow, even for me.

I'll have to accept it, but that doesn't mean I'll have to like it.


1 comment:

  1. It's amazing these age-related changes. I only regret that I was too stupid to enjoy the golden 20s.

    Yeah. It doesn't bother you. Not really. Not really-really. Okay, maybe just a bit, underneath all society's conditioning us to nobly accept these things gracefully, I think deep down we're still going 'huh? wait! I finally understand the three shells!'

    Joey, man: stop aging now. Right now.

    Today's WV is nvlrzpn, which is probably the krzygstani name for geritol.