J.C., Me, Joseph, & Kenneth

Mark first introduced me to Mr. B's about 15 years ago when he and I would lay over in New Orleans while flying for American Airlines (remember my first post mentioning that I used to be a flight attendant?).  Mark, being the captain and all, would always bring any crew members who so desired, to Mr. B's for dinner.  Well, I was fortunate to be one of those crew members! 

Now, the wait staff at Mr. B's works in teams of three - one head waiter and two assistants.  Mark would call ahead and ask for "Stephanie's Team" which consisted of Stephanie, as the lead, and Joseph and J.C.  Stephanie's team always pulled out all the stops when Captain Mark, with crewmembers in tow, came to dine!  I, too, extended Mark's tradition and brought my own crews to experience the wonderful flavors of Mr. B's.  Sure enough, Stephanie's team never let me down either!

As with many things in life, circumstances change and Mark and I were no longer laying over in New Orleans. 
Fast forward to two weeks ago, and here we are again anticipating an incredible meal at Mr. B's; this time with my family.  It was just by chance that we were seated in the "A Team's" section.  The team consisted of three male waiters.  I recognized J.C. immediately.  I refreshed his memory to the American Airlines crews who long ago visited Mr. B's.  He remembered Captain Mark and me (to a much lesser degree).  Stephanie has since completed college and now works in the medical field.  Joseph is still around, but no longer works at Mr. B's.  J.C.'s colleagues now consist of two delightful gentlemen by the names of Kenneth and Joe.  

With the exception of now being served by two new team members, nothing at Mr. B's has changed at all!  It still sports the same lovely decor, every one is extremely friendly and the food divine.  Kenneth won me over instantly by addressing me as "My Angel".  Mark ordered his all-time favorite Barbeque Shrimp and was not disappointed.  All is as we fondly remember it, which keeps us returning again and again.  Mr. B's has truly withstood the test of time!

Simply put, Denise made my blog a reality.  After deciding to go gray, I mentioned to Denise (in passing, really) that I was contemplating the idea of writing a blog about my journey to graydom.  Knowing that I would experience much frustration (and tears) in attempting to set up a blog myself, Denise generously offered to assist me.  So, in less time than it took me to prepare dinner and share a bottle of wine (we each have our talents), Denise had worked her magic! 

I am now the proud owner of my very own website, complete with links to my Facebook and Twitter accounts.  But, wait!  There's more . . . To ensure eyes would be actually read my words, she has mentioned me during her internet show, "This Week in Law".  Not only do I have a website; I have a following!



As the next few years passed, gradually more grays sprouted, of which I showed no inhibitions in plucking at first sight.  Fortunately for me, my hair is quite voluminous, so a few gray casualties was nothing to worry about in the premature thinning department.

At about 30 years of age, I realized that plucking grays was becoming quite tedious as it was no longer "just a few".  It was time for a different strategy in combatting gray.  Spending a couple hundred dollars to have my hair professionally colored was not in my budget.  Besides, I could think of so many other things I'd rather spend my money on. What to do, what to do?

I began listening more intently when girlfriends talked about their beauty regimens, especially on the topic of hair treatments.  Then I started asking questions and taking notes.  Flight attentands are ingenious for finding the best means of doing just about anything without spending much money.  I soon devised a plan to tackle my own special beauty problem. . .

With notes in hand, I entered Mother's Market, a local grocery store that sells not only organic foods, but also carries a plethora of products to combat, holistically, whatever ails you.  I headed for the beauty supply department.  I searched for the hair dye in the "green box".  This certain product, I was told, was perfect for a novice like me and would definitely not damage my hair. I chose the medium brown tint that all my girlfriends agreed was the perfect color for me.

Sitting on a stool, in front of the bathroom mirror, I brushed dye onto my long strands of hair.  Very long strands of hair, I should say.  So long, though, that dying my own hair was proving to be quite difficult indeed.  Then it happened!  During one fateful stroke, I fumbled with the brush, lost my grasp and the brush flew out of my hand.  To my horror, the brush had grazed the white cabinet door as it dropped to the floor leaving a perminant dark brown streak.  The bathroom had just been completely renovated a few short months before.  So much for my pristine bathroom. And so much for trying to save money!

I then did what any respectable young woman does in my neighborhood when the slightest bit of gray shows. . . I saw a professional!  So for the last decade plus, I have left all matters of hair to  professionals hairdressers.  Now I must admit, they have done an excellent job in hiding my ever-graying head of hair while adding some lovely highlights to my dark brown tresses.  I have been beautifully coifed.

That said, I have never gotten over sticker shock.  Now I may be totally unrealistic as to the amount it should cost to color long strands of hair.  Also, I live in an affluent neighborhood in southern California where the cost of living is high.  Thirdly, I realize that hair professionals have undertaken much training.  Don't get me wrong; I do not begrudge them one bit.  I know they are worth their weight in gold, especially if they can miraculously remedy a bad hair job by a botched "home job".  The bottom line for me is that I simply do not like to pay that much for hair maintenance.  I don't mind spending money, but my hair is not an area that I want to shell out much toward.

Fast forward to present day. . .  I'm an almost 45 years old and am taking the bold step to stop coloring my hair. . . Cold turkey.