It seems every time I turn on the news channels, they are fixated on the quantity of Barrack Obama’s new grey hairs. He’s got it around his temples and behind his ears. This fixation has caused me to also look in the mirror more carefully and low and behold, I too have a lot more grey hair than I did six months ago.

And, so do a lot more people around me. Seriously, I don’t care how old you are, the next time you’re in front of the mirror, take a good look.

They say fasting grey is caused by stress. If that is the case, then with everyone seemingly under more stress in the last while, grey seems to be the new blonde.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I happen to like my new found grey hairs. In fact, I’m fascinated by them. In the right light, they look shiny like white gold. They add a new dimension.

I don’t necessarily like that my grey is coming on a downward slide, but I do like what these hairs signify. For me, it makes me believe that I project to others that I have pushed through something and made it to the other side, sort of like what happened to JoBeth Williams in Poltergeist after she came through the light. I’m older. I’m wiser. I’m of age. I have a story to tell, even if nothing has really changed.

What does this mean for me? Do I have new rights? New capabilities? Could it be that finally, I’m the millennium debutante? Can I start driving badly? Or can I now command the ship?

At the very least, I’ve joined the club.

What has your grey done for you? All the power to you. . .

Have a great weekend.