Why I decided to go grey...a pictorial of my journey to becoming a tousled silver streak

Good GOD it is time for some smut. Time to laugh. Time to shake that intense, mind sucking numbing brain of meself and take a little stroll through photo memory lane. Join me, won't you?

It all started out so well. She was born in the 60's. A time of excitement...

...and apparently aliens. She shared her birthday with the first grey alien sighting. How thrilling!

She perfected the clasped hands pose early on.
And had her first bad haircut.

Later, her hair was the envy of all, most especially her "bowl-cut" bangs. She spent time on the Mediterranean.

And although a bit bucky in teeth, had a warm smile set off by excess hair oil.

There was a golden period. A time when she actually had an ass.

Alas, the golden period was short lived. Braces were donned at 16. Nothing else need be said...

Several years passed and then began the period of hair experimentation...

She vacationed in Mexico as a blonde. The hat was an accessory to die for. Especially worn with sweats. Tres chic.

Otherwise known as the Flashdance period. OOOHHHH...what a feeling to swing around BIG hair.

Learning to apply lipstick in a moving vehicle wearing these earrings was an accomplishment that filled her with pride.

There was that unfortunate Halloween. Or was this part of the Flashdance period? Please, notice the heels. No matter. Men scattered to the high hills.

She had her very own Like a Virgin limo tour. She was into the groove.

She wouldn't be caught dead without her lace. Or her dresses.

Finally she said...why am I not getting paid for this? And she got a job singing telegrams. Sometimes as a nurse. She took meticulous care of her men's blood pressure and could do a good leg thrust.

Then there was that unfortunate, doughy, sun splotched period in St. Maarten where she met a Mr. T lookalike. His bathing suit seemed...showy.

She ditched the island life after a week and a few months later was able to be in her brother's wedding. [Probably better that he wasn't clued into her island escapades.] Between the 1st fitting and the final, she gained 20lbs. But look at that young, rounded skin glistening on a spring day.

As an actress she had some very minor success. There was the mysterious Greta Garbo look. It lasted as long as this photo shoot and was never recaptured.

A few years later she met E while shooting the incredibly glamorous film genre known as the industrial film. They were relatively young and both liked shorts.

Although they each thought it fortunate that he had not experienced JCK's previous highbrow...yet...stylish... yet... oh so trendy periods, he was continually intrigued by her auditioning attire. [Here she is off to Covington, Georgia for In the Heat of the Night.] What a bad ass.

JCK had SO many talents she wanted to share with E. Among them coloring her hair to match the inside of an elevator. Purple gloves go SO well with black leather, don'tcha think?

After retiring from acting at least on stage and screen, she went on to massage school and became a massage therapist, leaving the elevator hair behind her.

Filled with endorphins they married.

A perm for the wedding, then brunette just for kicks. E had whiplash, but was never bored.
And then a golden, perky flip.

JCK moved to California with E and lived a full life. They did everything and more to have a baby. Their path to become parents led them to open adoption and on an evening in November 2003, BOY entered their lives.

This is moments after BOY has been born.

2 months later... GOOD GOD, she's pregnant! She gains 45 delicious pounds. She doesn't care.

GIRL is born. She is 10 months younger than BOY. This is enough to turn JCK's hair platinum. And then BOY starts walking. At 10 months old. Keeping up with two babies who are 10 months apart is a challenge. And the silver roots, which she has had for many years...covered up by a variety of hues, begin to creep in. The hell with it. She's going au naturale.

JCK is just too...tired to think about her hair. Uh Oh...She lost the 45lbs a little too fast. Henceforth known as the Old Ma Kettle period.

But, THEN ...it really feels liberating this going silver thing. There is a freedom in it. A relief. And the part of her that loves to be different is satisfied. Because this is different. Are you kidding me? It's radical, man. This is L.A. Nothing is au naturale here. Well, maybe the nudists...at our house.

Let the good times roll...

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