Albinism and Aging: A Case Study by the Numbers

It was Monday and I had a meeting so instead of sleeping until 10 or 11, I woke up at 8, which was still considered early back when I was 29. I went for a jog, showered, shaved and went to the bodega up the street to buy cigarettes, where I was carded, so I had to run back to my place and get my ID to prove I was over 18.

My meeting was the last of a series of general meetings I took off a pilot script I'd written about drugged out Wall Street psychopaths. I went to Lionsgate Television and I remember the woman I met with being really condescending, which at the time was a great way to trigger me becoming The Biggest Asshole on Earth. After telling her the Mad Men pilot put me to sleep and that maybe watching television shouldn't feel like AP English homework, I drove home and decided I needed a drink. I met a friend at Fred 62 where I ordered a 16 ounce beer and was asked to show my license, indicating I was older than 21. When I spoke to my (former) Manager and (former) Agent, they explained the woman I met with had been condescending because I looked like I was 22 and she didn't respect people right out of college. I told him I guess I have good genes.

I don't really remember much about the rest of that particular week. I was freelance writing and writing scripts at the time and didn't need a day job yet. All those weeks sort of blur together into an awesome haze of immense hope and utter and complete panic. By the numbers, my week was probably 10 hours in the gym, 36 sugar free popsicles, 25 pages of writing, between 5 and 48 beers, 9 holes of par 3 golf, 64 ounces of SPF 45 Sunscreen, 2 to 15 grams of AK-47, 60 pieces of sushi, 5 beautiful LA sunsets and 0 shaves.

While I don't remember all the details of that particular week, I'm sure there were 0 shaves because on Friday I met a friend for lunch. When the bill came, I noticed on the check that'd I'd been given an unsolicited Senior Citizen Discount. The waitress didn't even ask to see my ID. Evidently, with a week's worth of stubbly white beard, I looked considerably older than 65. And that was the week I aged 47 years.

Further Reading: The Eggshell Egghead: On my Education and Albinism