As Pluck Would Have It

Some time ago (not so long ago I like to tell myself) shortly before my 40^th birthday, I found my first grey hair.

I was in a public bathroom and saw the offender of youth as I checked myself in the mirror before returning to my day. I was alone. The room was quiet. And I had absolutely no interest in allowing my guest to stay. So I plucked her, took a quick look and unceremoniously threw her away.

But something stuck with me. That was no "grey" hair. That sucker was white, alarmingly so. There wasn't a bit of color in it at all.

As science tells us, it was full of every color at once. But sadly for me, it was bereft of melanin.

I digress. While the overall effect may be grey, salt and pepper, call it what you will, that effect is created by hordes of white little suckers tearing across your scalp, hiding behind perfectly normal colored hairs, waiting silently in the wings.

After plucking my first white wonder, I moved on with my life feeling a bit of gratitude that I had somehow escaped the ravages of age. I moved on with my life.

A month or two later, my guest returned, this time bringing a friend with her to crash on my scalp. Two little white hairs, sharing dreams of the adventures they might have at the intersection of my hairline and part.

I plucked them both.

Since that day, I've gone in search of more, trying my best to temporarily eradicate the great whites. Sometimes when I scrutinize my reflection in the mirror, I tell myself that these are natural highlights and not white hairs.

But more are showing up and it's becoming harder to fool myself. Like guests at a party that is starting to get underway, they're trickling in and it won't be long now, I figure, before the festivities are in full swing. The invitation must have said "in her 40s," but apparently it was a surprise party because no one invited me.

I am still attempting to temporarily eradicate the suckers, but these days it's getting trickier – not because there are too many. They are still slow coming. But the problem is that when I try to pluck them, I invariably get several neighbors who are perfectly full of melanin. In my attempts to rid myself of a single albino offender, I end up ridding myself of color-abiding citizens. The collateral damage is starting to outweigh the point of my original mission.

I am left to ponder the philosophical question: Is more desirable to go grey or to go bald?