Most people do not age a decade within one week's time. But that is exactly what I have done between the last week of 2005 and this first week in 2006.

Whether it's trying to avoid aging, the unwillingness to step in front of a camera or procrastinating about getting a up-to-date photo taken, it's easy to just keep on using an old picture. But I finally bit the bullet -- after nearly 10 years -- and updated my picture.

In the nearly 10 years that I have been writing this column, this is only the fourth picture to be used. The first was used approximately two months and then promptly lost somewhere on the pressroom floor. This was back in the days when little to none of the final newspaper was finalized on the computer, but was rather completed with cut and pasting. I've never figured out if it was on purpose or not.

My picture was consequently lost one morning and rather than make a new print, a new picture was taken. That quick shot lasted the next nine years, through hundreds of columns and not as many births.

There was one exception during that decade of use when a co-worker thought it would be funny to sneak in a picture of me during my little-known life as a clown. Actually, I had just served as a waiter during the American Heart Association celebrity waiter dinner. Fortunately my regular picture returned the next week and re-mained in its place simply because I hate having my picture taken.

Like most people, I can easily come up with ex-cuses not to have my picture taken: My hair is not done; I don't have any make-up on; I've been wearing these same clothes for the past week. I regularly took joy in taking other people's pictures and regularly avoided being on the other side of the camera.

I know I'm not alone in preferring to take pictures rather than having a picture taken.

For most people, having their picture taken must be near the top of the Things-Most-Dreaded list right along with public speaking and death.

What is the most common response when anyone whips out a camera at a family function? People dash behind trees; they throw their hands up in self-defense; they offer to take the picture so the current camera holder can be in the picture.

Unless the person is five years old or a true camera-hound, very few people start posing when a camera is pointed in their direction.

But I knew it was time to update the picture for a variety of reasons: More people on the street recognized me from my signature than from face-to-face contact. I no longer owned the clothes I was wearing in the photo and hadn't in fact possessed them for five years. I was simply trying to avoid the notion that I had aged.

Despite a person's dread of the camera, sometimes it's unavoidable, such as at the Department of Motor Vehicles. I can honestly say I have never heard these words uttered by anyone: "I'm going to have my driver's license picture taken. Whohoo."

There's only so much artistic liberty that driver's license personnel can take with a giant camera attached to a stand three feet away. Add in the intangibles such as never knowing exactly sure where to look, wearing a shirt that clashes with the background and small children pulling you to one side of the picture frame and you are lucky if walk out of there with a license not memorializing you as a goober.

While I've long championed for a longer renewal period on Nebraska's license plates, I'd like to add a longer driver's license period to that list also.

In fact, I would like Nebraska to join the ranks of Arizona in its renewal process.

Arizona doesn't require a new driver's license but every 12 years -- and that's just to take a new picture.

They must figure that people change enough every dozen years to warrant a new snapshot, whether you are going from 16 to 28 or 44 to 56.

I've had very good driver's license photos and very bad driver's license photos. Either way, I could stand a 12-year wait for a new license, aka, photo session.

-- Ronda Graff plans to use this photo for the next 10 years or until she loses 10 pounds, which ever comes first.