If you’ve studied the French Revolution, you might be aware that a tale is told of Marie Antoinette’s hair turning white overnight as she awaited her impending encounter with the guillotine.

I know it’s not quite the same, but I insist that my hair has just turned grey overnight.

While I’ve known that it had some grey here and there for some time, it was never apparent in the morning mirror. During my morning ritual of brushing my teeth and shaving my face, I would still see a brown haired aging man that still has a lot of youth in his thoughts if no where else.

That ended today. This morning, there was a grey haired man looking back at me. How did that happen? After only 21,488 days of my life, I am showing the first undeniable sign of aging. What’s next? Liver spots? I’m a little concerned about what else might sneak up on me.

I’ll likely be thinking about that tonight and I sip my evening nightcap. It’s a short glass ensuring that I’ll have no trouble keeping it half full.