Bill Cosby, on his album “Bill Cosby is a very funny fellow Right!” had this bit where he talked about little tiny hairs growin’ out his face. With all the things I’m forgetting lately, this line I suddenly remember.
The memory comes crashing back as I watch the hairs growin’ out MY face. I went to bed at the age of 49 with very little facial hair, and woke up at 50 looking a lot like Grizzly Adams.
Maybe I’m exaggerating, a little, but I’d like to know what the evolutionary reason is for this sudden hair growth. Is there a need to keep our cheeks toasty warm at the age of 50? Is this supposed to compensate for the thinning hair on our heads? Or is this merely nature’s way of kicking us when we’re down (no pun intended)?
The hair on my face is perfectly complemented by the volatile mood swings. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m turning into a werewolf. It’s as if the age of fifty is my full moon, and I am inexplicably baring my teeth and growling for no good reason.
The other day I went into “full werewolf” because I couldn’t find a pencil where I knew I had left it. Today I opened my White Cheddar popcorn and dropped half of it on the floor. The roar I released sent pigeons flying outside my window.
I also stay awake a large majority of the night, and have suddenly switched channels from Lifetime to Spike T.V. Apparently I would now rather watch men fish on “River Monsters” than see Meredith Baxter find a new life following a shattering divorce.
I’m not sure what I’m turning into, but I do think a shaving kit might be in order if these little tiny hairs continue to grow with such ferocity. Until then, I’m going to start rubbing my face when thinking like Grizzly Adams used to do and howl when I feel like it.
Werewolves are very in right now. Finally, I’m in style.
By the way, if you’ve never listened to Bill Cosby’s album from many years ago, it is a classic: