i grow old, i… (part one)

talking to a colleague the other day, i casually mentioned the wimp-rock band America from the early-mid-late-early-mid-’70s and got a blank stare. She pretended to recognize “Horse with No Name” but man did I feel old. She asked me, guardedly, “How old are you… if you don’t mind me asking?” 35, I told her, going on 36. “You don’t look it.” (Another colleague from this company had guessed my age at 28 — the average there is 24, so that’s probably biasing the guesses.)
“I’m going bald as fast as I can!” I protested. She gasped and burst out laughing. Timing, I tell you. Time-ING.