Mid-Life Crisis... at 77?

So, today my mother informed me that she was on a mission to buy mousse for my 77 year old grandfather. Her words were along the lines of "when we were at Cindy's (the hairdresser) I told her to put something in grandpa's hair so it did not just lay there flat. So she put in some mousse. Well your grandfather just told me 'Kim go get me some of the stuff to put in my hair.'"
Who would have thought that my very blunt, right to the point grandfather would be fussing over his looks at this age?
I suppose that vanity never dies with age. If you think about it, we spend our entires lives trying to prevent the inevitable age. I figure fuck it - if I'm going to get old, let me get old. Wrinkles, dentures, bring it all. Except I am catastrophically scared of becoming bald. Men, please you've got nothing on me. As a woman my hair is my life, it is what makes me a woman. However, if it is in the end that I do go bald I always can have a wig made of my own hair that has been stored under my bathroom sink for the past 5 years. I don't think it is going anywhere. So much for sending it to Locks For Love. Some poor bald girl is.... well bald.... because I am too lazy to bring the hair that I have into a salon for THEM to mail it. Talk about a lazy piece of shit.
Whatever.
I've got good Karma coming out of my ass. Giving some child my hair to make a wig would just insure that in my next life I would be a Queen, or at least one step up in the caste system.
That's about it.