wrinkles on my forehead and gray hairs on my head

I am getting OLD! I know this because the wrinkles I noticed on my forehead a few years ago are steadily getting more ... wrinkly. And my gray hairs are multiplying like rabbits. Seriously, rabbits. Really horny gray rabbits are growing out of my head. (Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd type.)

Now let me ask you this question. Is it ever in good taste to tell someone they've got gray hairs? I mean, I'd say that maybe to a very close relative or something. MAYBE. But don't you think it would be kind of rude if, oh, I don't know, a coworker said that to you? Like, they were talking to you, and suddenly paused, looking at your head, and said, "Hey, do you have gray hairs?" Yeah, well, that happened to me. That happened to me in a meeting at work with a bunch of customers from abroad. I believe I handled it appropriately by saying quite cheerfully, "Yes, I do. Thanks for noticing." The perpetrater was a bit embarrassed. As he should be.

grace

I don't consider myself a religious person, and my family has never really been prone to saying grace, except on holidays (especially when my Grandma is present). So when I was in Baltimore having lunch at a restaurant with some coworkers, I was a bit taken aback when one of them stopped us before we started eating and "forced" us to say grace with him. Not that I really mind - the guy was also a minister of some sort - but I thought it was a bit presumptuous of him to assume we'd be willing to join him in his prayer. Wouldn't it have been a bit more politically correct (though that's kind of a bad word these days) if he'd just quietly sat there and said it to himself? Which brings me to my other point: There's something comforting about seeing someone sitting down at a table in the cafeteria at work, closing their eyes, folding their hands and silently saying grace to themselves before eating their meal. Is this a contradiction to my first statement? Perhaps. But hey, blame the latter point on my religious upbringing, and the former on my rebellious streak. I embody contradiction.