When Paul Newman died, someone wrote "By 70, you have the face you've earned." Grey hairs are coming now, so wrinkles can't be far behind. While I love the idea of earning my face and hope that age graces me with lines from laughter and smiles, the idea of my face changing is a bit overwhelming. (Society pushing the idea that a wrinkle puts one foot in the grave doesn't help.) It will just seem like my face until one day I'm looking at old photos with a whipper-snapper who asks which one in the picture is me. Maybe that will just help refine another laugh line.