There’s all this controversy these days about “pray the gray away.” What’s the big deal? If I could have my luxurious, silky brown head of hair back, I’d pray until my folded fingers bled.

Perhaps this movement started because baby boomers are quickly reaching old age. I don’t know, but it makes little sense to me. I had my first gray hairs in my twenties, so I’ve been looking gray for years. Of course, my grayness is hereditary, though some people out there believe it is a choice – like I would want be gray at 25 and look different. How could it be a choice? “Yes, I want to look different from most of the people in my age bracket. Let me be gray.”

Logistically speaking, praying away the gray may not seem to work. I mean, how can you expect God to turn his attention to a bunch of doddering old fools who want to look like they’re 30 years younger but are just one trip away from hip replacementville? And, God, with that long mane of white hair and beard – I don’t think he’d have much sympathy, nor time; he’s got more important worries, like famine and wars.

But, I’ve heard of many miracles where prayer circles have brought back many people from the pearly gates. Some are not happy about coming back to this gray-hating world, but perhaps their work is not done on this earth.

So why not? What would be the harm in some prayers? Praying away the gray might work. I can imagine waking up one morning and looking in the mirror – a full head of my shiny brown hair enveloping my aging, wrinkling face that didn’t shift backward 30 years. I might appear to have on a very real-looking, expensive wig. Hmm, pause for thought. Nope, something just wouldn’t seem right to the casual observer.

Maybe praying away the gray isn’t the best solution. Maybe I’ll just stick with what nature endowed me. So what if that young whippersnapper in traffic the other day called me “grandma fag”? Wait ‘til he gets to be gray. I’ll start praying for his scalp now.