Tag: gray hair

Posted in Life

More hair? I’ll pass.

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I don’t always look at the emails in my spam folder, but when I do, I’ll get a kick out of one of them. The most recent had this subject line: “Rapid and long-lasting hair growth.”

If you know me at all, you know that growing hair is the least of my worries. My hair was pretty much all gray by age fifty, but I have plenty of it. Every barber and stylist who cuts my hair comments on how much they have to comb though. My dermatologist comments, “We don’t have to worry about sunburn up here.” It’s easy to spot me in large group photos. I’m that guy with the thick head of gray.

I was at a friend’s birthday party and we all huddled up for a group shot. His family printed and framed the picture for him. When people looked at the picture, they would point to my gray-haired head and ask, “Who’s that?”

While most of them were born with peach fuzz, my children all grew up to have thick heads of hair. Most of the grandkids are keeping with that tradition. A couple of two-year-olds are taking their time, but they are working hard on the tradition.

The spam email went on to promise the regrowth of hair I thought was lost forever – just by taking a tablespoon of “this” every day. I don’t know what “this” was. I didn’t click that far into the advertisement. I know growing hair is a big business. Just not for me.

While most spam email is pretty good at knowing what you might be interested in, this algorithm got it all wrong. Kind of like the guy selling an ice maker to an eskimo, right?

Posted in aging, Life

That little voice never ages!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Molly Hogan, an 82 year old cross-fitter from Boston said in a recent interview, “You know that little voice inside that talks to you? It doesn’t age!”

From my own experience, I’d say she is spot on. Even though I’m now in my sixties, I never fell like I’m sixty. I think and speak and interact with people as if I much younger. Like thirty years younger. Every once in a while though, little reminders yank me back into reality.

Like when I need an extra day of rest between workouts. When I was younger, I would pound out the miles running, sometimes working out ten or more days in a row. I can’t do that anymore. Every two days, I need to recuperate.

Or when I suddenly realize I’m the oldest guy in the room. By a lot. I forget that when people look at me, they see an old guy with lots of gray hair. Most of my workout buddies see someone the same age as their parents!

My kids always want to be sure I’m OK. I feel like I did when I was their age, but they have begun to consider me someone to keep an eye on if I’m alone or driving late at night or on a ladder doing some painting. I appreciate their concern. I forget that I was concerned about my parents in the same way.

It’s cool that part of you never ages. It’s that little voice!