Old Face.

If yesterday's post highlighted my baby face, maybe now I should admit that I'm not as young as I used to be.  I'm in my fourth decade, folks.   (Gasp!  No! Did he really say that?)

9 years old, maybe?  Even a babyface can grow crows feet if he squints too much.
I could also rock the short shorts and tube socks back then.  Shara was an all-star with the jams.

I know everyone ages, but I half expected it would be everyone but me.  Isn't that the way things work?

Here are my top 10 physical evidences of my three decades:

1. My hairline.  Yikes.  It's moving.

2. I've got these creases that emanate from the corners of my eyes and try to touch my ears.

3. My cheeks wrinkle up to frame my mouth when I smile, then sag back down when I stop smiling.  Good reason to always be smiling, I guess. :)

4. I'm going gray.  Jen first discovered it when we were idling away our time at Heathrow in 2008.  Now it's spreading to the top, too.  I knew it was getting more prominent when cousin Joy was here to visit this spring (2011), and she resounded, "Joe!  You have gray around the edges!"  I think I wear it dignifiedly.

5. There's this one arm-hair that is like 2 inches long just below my elbow.  Weird.  I'll leave out details about nose-hairs. But my eyebrows are... umm... they're starting to bush out like my dad's.  (No offense, dad!)

6.  My footwear collection now has more formal shoes than sports shoes.  (Remember when life was simple and you had one pair of church shoes and one pair of school shoes?)

7. I can't camp out without a cushy ground mat, and these days I need ear plugs to mute those fiesty critters who scavenge for food all night long.

8. After working outside (leaves, cars, etc) or playing sports, I've got to use a massager or warm shower to loosen my muscles, or I'm stiff for 3 days.

9.  I have begun to notice things like ride comfort in a car, legroom on an airplane, and have to get up and stretch after sitting for a while.  I can't kneel for more than a minute without my legs falling asleep.

10.  I am now a snorer.  I think.  I've not really heard myself, but sources say it's disruptive to sound(less) sleep.

I'm not worried.  I'll take it as it comes.  I filled my 20s with good times, and I anticipate the same for my 30s.

Hairline, Squinting, Cheeks, Bags under Eyes.  Campobello, New Brunswick, July 2011.
Photo courtesy of Ian.

"Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been."

~Mark Twain

Baby Face

It probably comes as no surprise to you that people think I am younger than I really am.  It's been a part of my life since high school I guess.  I've had blond eyebrows, very little stubble, and a smooth, pale face.  Sometimes I've even been blessed with those cute round cheeks.  Especially after Thanksgiving!

Is this the face that folks see?  Looks like 8 candles to me.

I must've been about 15 here.  

Senior Year of high school, 17. My big sister was in College!

Preparing for a group date.  Everyone was 18, but visible disparity in features.

In college, we were all men.  But there were varying levels of maturity, poise, and stature.  In the image above, Joey D. in the blue shirt was known for his striking adult features.  Some of the guys had 5 o'clock shadows to contend with.  Not me.   I can still get away with shaving twice a week without much notice!

Last week I came across an article about how Leonardo's young face helps him be likable, and to take his characters to another level.  Turns out there really is something called the Baby Face Bias, wherein baby-faced adults are perceived as more innocent and honest, but have a hard being taken seriously in confrontation or when they are authoritative on a subject. That got me thinking about several of the times when people want to talk about how young I look.

Example 1:

Missionary Trainer, Elder Cannon, August 2000

As a missionary in England, I remember introducing myself to someone (pretty close to my first month in the country) and someone was just so taken aback at my living on my own.  I believe she may have said, "Does your mother know you are here?"   What?   Like I was a runaway or something?  Later in the conversation, I think she likened my appearance to Opie or Richie Cunningham on Happy Days.  I remember getting that alot.  Is there really a resemblance?  I think it was just that I was a clean-cut American boy, and that's what they had to compare against.

Ron Howard, aka Opie, or Richie.

Example 2:  Another memorable time was a few years later, the winter before my college graduation. A few months after we adopted Ian, I remember going into a Wendy's on a road trip and the cashier kept giving me a funny look.  After a taking my order and calling it into the mic, she paused, then seemed to get up the gumption to ask, "Is that your kid?"  I was already feeling kinda self-conscious and new at being a dad, but I understood when I said yes and she followed up with, "You look too young to even be married, much less have a kid!"

Undergraduate Graduation Day. Almost 24.

Master's Thesis Defense Day. Almost 26.

Example 3:  Wow.  So then a couple of weeks ago I was at a conference of many well-respected decision makers related to one of my projects at work.  I was feeling pretty dapper in a suit and one of my bowties.  I may have been one of the younger people in the room.  When I chatted with the session moderator, he commented, "Wow, you look like you could be 16!  Good on you for presenting today."   I wasn't embarassed or offended.  It just comes with the territory, I guess.

I don't think my baby face affects my credibility, though I can never be sure.  I understand that there are factors in judging people externally, such as their accent, culture, and so forth.  As in my confidence post, I have discovered that I have to assert my capability, and maybe that's one of the reasons I wear a bowtie at professional events... it throws people off my "young face" ice-breaker, and lets them chat about how swanky a bowtie looks.

Age 18

I think it's akin to how people paint a mental picture of what someone looks like that they've only talked to on the phone.  When they find out the truth, it's a surprise.  Lots of the people who misjudge my age follow up their comments with, "Oh, well, you'll be thankful for your young face when you are 60 and look like you're 40."  That could be true.  But in the end, I'm not convinced that I care all THAT much about what people think of my face.  Maybe I'll have a young voice like Ira Glass, radio host for This American Life.  He sounds 30, but he's like 52.  I wonder how often people comment to him about it?

Do you have Baby Face Bias?