I just plucked my first grey hair.

Last week was my birthday, when I turned the ripe, young age of 28 years-old, and up until this morning, I didn’t feel all that bad about it. I mean, sure, I’m getting to the point where I don’t even blend in with college students anymore, I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of becoming a famous rock star, and liquor store clerks joke with me about underage kids trying to sneak booze through instead of checking my own ID, but for the most part I’ve come to terms with these things … at least as much as I probably ever will! Of course, if Joe Perry of Aerosmith comes knocking on my door saying that Steven Tyler got horrible laryngitis and they need me to step in…

Nonetheless, I don’t think anybody really looks forward to getting older … at least not after hitting either the age of 18 or 21, depending on whether you’re female or will have to be buying your own drinks! Sure, it’s great when you hit that magic age where suddenly the only things left to restrict you from drinking and gambling and buying porn are your own morals, but there’s also all of the less than fun coming of age happenings that begin to disappear, like that awesome metabolism that allowed you to eat an entire pizza in one night without gaining weight or people other than your own mother who will still spend more than ten bucks on you for your birthday. Then again, I’d give all of the LEGOs in my impressively large, yet kind of scary for an adult to possess-sized collection if it only meant that I could keep my fleeting hair just a short while longer.

I’m not sure which is worse, having grey hair or not having any at all, but I think if I had to pick one I’d probably go with the hair that still exists – at least that still gives me something that I can attempt to dye, despite how utterly ridiculous it’s going to end up looking when that little experiment is done! And I suppose if that’s really the case, I probably shouldn’t be plucking the grey, little guys at all – besides, I come from a long line of men with male-pattern-baldness, so it’s probably not a good idea to tempt fate or lend any favors to help expedite the process. A chrome dome may very well be inevitable for me, but let me tell you that I sure ain’t going down without a fight!

When I do finally lose my hair, I’ve already told my fiancée that we’re going to be investing in the best hair replacement apparatus that money can buy – whether that be plugs, Rogaine, or even a $100 hair appliance from the creepy-looking wig store downtown. Hell, I’ll wear a clown wig if I have to – anything, really, to prevent walking around naked from the ears up! And despite never really being much of a hat wearer during my hay days, you might even see me investing in a variety of nice hats – now there’s something both useful and practical that people could be getting me for my birthdays between now and B-Day if they still felt like spending more than ten bucks! By the time my roots have gone the way of the dinosaur, customer service, and Madonna’s last ounces of self respect, I’ll have amassed a large enough collection of hats to get me through any season of the year in style!

Well, who am I kidding? Maybe not exactly in style, but at least not shivering from a scalp level…

But Scott, you say – there are plenty of cool people who don’t have hair … Bruce Willis, Shaquille O’Neal, Ghandi! Yeah, and if I also happened to be a supreme bad ass, eight and a half feet tall, or one of the most influential peacekeepers of all time, you might have something there. Unfortunately, though, I can’t dunk, I’m not nearly patient enough to be a diplomat, and I’ve never thrown a terrorist off the top of a high-profile building in Los Angeles. I’m just a writer slowly losing his hair one beloved follicle at a time – these are my stories…

P.S. If you’d like to make a donation to help these stories be a little less depressing as I watch my life circle down the drain one grey little buddy at a time, please send your payments to The Scott Sevener Foundation for Scott Not Going Bald and Pouting About It the Rest of His Life, care of Comedic-Genius Media. Your generous donation of even only a few pennies a day will go to further research in cutting-edge baldness-prevention and restoration technologies from around the globe. With your help, we can stop me from going bald and also subsequently insane. Where there’s lots and lots of money, there’s hope.