I went bald at about 22 years old. I say “about” because I don’t actually know; I started shaving my head at 20. I saw the writing on the wall and decided to “get in front of it,” as they say in Public Relations. (Full disclosure, I first shaved my head essentially on a bet, but that’s another story.)

Being bald at age 20 allowed me to remain essentially timeless until a few gray hairs showed up in my beard in my late 30’s. It is incredible how little I changed looking back at pictures that span 15 years.

None of that really bothered me. Being bald allowed me to keep on aging gracefully, and salt-and-pepper grays are dignified. Plus, I still had my eyesight; 20/20. I could fly a fighter jet if I wanted to! And I had perfect teeth. Well, not perfect, I managed to chip my two front teeth badly before getting braces, but I had no cavities.

Then right about the age of 40, I got a fiber of some sort lodged in my eyelid and proceeded to scratch the sclera instead of the iris or pupil. Upon removing the fiber, the optometrist said, “Take these steroid/antibacterial drops, and I’ll see you in a week to get your prescription.”

I was shocked! “I don’t need glasses, thank you very much!”

“Oh really? Read this with your left eye. Good. Now read this with your right eye. Oh, you can’t read it? Interesting. Look through here and try again. Oh, you can read it now. Interesting. I’ll see you in a week to check your prescription.”

And there it goes, the last bastion of my youth.

I guess it’s time to start aging gracefully.