From rainbow head to the old gray mar (ilyn)...
Riding my bike around town gets me out of myself...until I find myself all tangled up in my head about dumb things. As I rode out of the driveway and around the corner on my way to meet a friend for lunch, helmet on my head and my stupid looking crossing guard vest draped over me, I started thinking about what the helmet did to my hair. Did it give me hat head? Flat head? Air vent head? And the correct answer was...nobody cares. Now halfway up the first block, I was thinking about my gray hair. Then I wondered "gosh, what's the difference between gray and grey?" And the correct answer was... nobody cares. Maybe my really smart lunch-friend who knows everything about all the politics in the city would know. Nah...he wouldn't care. Then the kid's tune The Old Gray Mare jumped into my head. As I completed my first right turn I remembered simpler times with my hair. Until about three years ago it used to be super short. No effort. No hassles. Like the