Four.   It's a number.  It's my lucky number (as much as I believe in luck).  It's the month and day of my birth.  It's what I always bet on in roulette and power ball.  It's, in a way, what I yell after one of my horrendous slices in golf.  It's the number of horsemen of the apocalypse, a homynym for the word "death" in some languages of Asia, the number of chambers in the heart, the number of dimensions of space time, the number of letters in most swear words, and the number of blocks on each shape in Tetris.  It can be "Fab" in the case of the Beatles or "Fantastic" in comics and, in case you haven't figured it out yet, even has its own Wikipedia page.  However, as of this week, three weeks before my 30th birthday, it has a new significance...it is the number of gray hairs I can clearly and plainly see on my head.  

I don't mind getting a few gray hairs...at least I always told myself I wouldn't mind.  I also told myself I wouldn't mind turning 30.  However, I did find myself gettting awfully nostalgic while I stood there, looking in the mirror, combing through my hair with my fingers (examining each one), as I serached feverishly through my mind for memories of my youth....almost as frantically as I searched for the tweezers.  

This sudden onset of sophistication (that's what I've decided to call it) led to a weekend of reflection and an insightful examination of my youth....by this, of course, I mean that I watched a Back to the Future marathon along with Kindergarten Cop, Tremors, and Star Wars (Episode IV).  Back to the Future was, as always, amazing.  I know some people don't care for Part III...and others even have the gall to say that Part II is the best...but I know the truth.  Part I is the best, a classic, never to be rivaled.  Part III is next...a wonderful enabler of my fantasy of being a cowboy living in the Old West.  Part II...well...Part II I'll allow...especially since it gave us the Hover Board.   

When it came time to watch Star Wars, however, the joy did not last long.  After a mere 10 minutes I had to turn it off.  I love Star Wars....I have since the first time I saw it.   I also love my wife...also since the first time I saw her.  Together, however, they just don't work.  It began with her asking who a particular character was...I said, "that's Han Solo," to which she replied..."Is he one of those 'sky walker' guys?"  I tried to remain calm as I described Luke Skywalker...who is a Jedi, and Han Solo...a smuggler and a mercenary.  The questions continued and I kept my cool ..but then she asked, "is this the one with the baby chewbaccas...I like them."  She must have seen the tension growing on my face as I described the difference between Ewoks and Chewbacca along with who's in which movie, because she finally, after a few more questions, said...."okay, okay.....I'm done asking about Star Trek."  It was at this moment that I realized that I never saw any gray hairs prior to my wedding, six months ago.  Merely a coincidence? 

Well, before I met Heidi, never once was I almost 30, I was merely in my mid to late twenties.  I never once had a gray hair.  Certainly, I never once woke up early to watch CBS Sunday Morning.  I never went to bed by 8:30 nor did I ever eat dinner at 4:00.  At the rate she's got me going, I can only imagine when we'll be eating and sleeping at 70.  I'm sure it's not really her fault though....no....not at all.  Still, if I had to choose...there's no place and at no other time I'd rather be than right now, with Heidi, starting (and I emphasize STARTING) to grow old.  

Plus, I've heard these gray hairs make you look distinguished....though never by anyone who didn't already have them.