A former “Melrose Place” star has surprised fans with new photos showing him with a gray beard and noticeable wrinkles. At 62, the actor, who was once a TV heartthrob, is now embracing the natural aging process. His recent look has gotten a lot of attention online, with many fans admiring his rugged, mature appearance.
This ’90s TV star was known for his good looks and charm. Fans have watched him grow over the years, but his latest transformation has caught them off guard.
From his early days on television to his current status as a silver-haired star, this actor’s journey is more fascinating than it seems.
The Rise of a TV Heartthrob
Born in Detroit and raised in northern California, the actor’s journey to fame wasn’t always glamorous. His mother, Kathleen, worked as a systems analyst. Despite her demanding job with early mornings and long hours, she made sure to teach her children the value of education and hard work. Her dedication laid the groundwork for the actor’s future success.
In 1984, by his early 20s, the actor got his big break when he landed the role of Rick Hyde on the daytime soap opera *Ryan’s Hope*. He played this role until 1987, earning an Emmy nomination and setting the stage for his future in entertainment.
The following year, he landed another role as Gregory Prince III in an episode of *ABC Afterschool Specials*. This teen drama series often tackled social issues of the day.
This role made him a major TV star and turned him into a heartthrob of the ’90s. His portrayal of a tough, motorcycle-riding contractor won over many fans and made him one of the most recognizable faces on television.
As time has passed, the actor has grown from a youthful heartthrob into a mature figure in Hollywood. The days of the clean-shaven, charming Jake Hanson are long gone.
Unlike some actors who try to fight aging, this actor has fully embraced it. Now, he sports a full gray beard and natural wrinkles, giving him a distinguished look that shows his life experience and wisdom.
His recent photos have stirred a lot of attention online. Fans have reacted with admiration, praising his natural and elegant appearance on social media.
People were surprised and impressed when they saw his recent photos. One person on Instagram said, “He sure is a handsome man,” and another shared their love for “Dynasty,” saying, “How obsessed I am with ‘Dynasty’ and you all.”
Fans noted how his charm has lasted over the years. One commented, “Most handsome man in Hollywood. I watched you on ‘Melrose Place’ and kept watching because of you. You were very attractive then, and you still are. You’ve aged gracefully.”
Another fan simply said, “Handsome man, omg.” On X (formerly Twitter), a user expressed their amazement, writing, “So Grant Show is 62 years old and still looks like this?!???”
Comments like “Grant looks stunning with a gray beard” and “He has aged gracefully” show that people appreciate how he has embraced aging naturally and feel it has only enhanced his appeal.
Six months later, they met again in Vancouver, and this time their bond grew stronger. They started as friends, and after about eight weeks of dating in Los Angeles, they became a couple.
A year later, they got engaged and had a one-month engagement before marrying in a rustic California ceremony on August 18, 2012. Besides acting, LaNasa is a former ballet dancer and choreographer.
She had a successful Hollywood career with roles in movies like “Alfie” (2004), “Valentine’s Day” (2010), and “The Campaign” (2012). On TV, she starred in the NBC sitcom “Three Sisters” (2001) and the drama series “Deception” (2012) as the glamorous socialite Sophia Bowers.
Their relationship quickly became a significant part of his life. The actor often talks about LaNasa with great love. She once compared her to his caring grandmother, Blanche, who played a key role in his upbringing.
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In 2013, almost a year after they got married, the actor and his wife were trying to start a family. He mentioned, “We are working on it — practice, practice, practice.” They knew it might be a bit tricky because of their age, but they were determined to make it happen.
Despite his character Spence Westmore on “Devious Maids” dealing with romantic issues, the actor joked that they were keeping their marriage exciting both inside and outside the bedroom.
He said that they did everything together, from playing golf to shopping, and highlighted how important it was to keep the romance alive in their relationship.
Their efforts paid off when they had a baby girl, Eloise McCue Show, in March 2014. They were thrilled and said, “We are truly blessed to have such a healthy and beautiful baby girl.”
The actor, producer, and director has continued to work while balancing his family life. His most recent role was as Blake Carrington on the TV show “Dynasty,” which aired from 2017 to 2022.
At 62, he still cherishes his past role. He recently reunited with his former “Melrose Place” co-stars — Daphne Zuniga, Laura Leighton, and Courtney Thorne-Smith — to look back on their time together on the show.
The reunion took place on the “Still The Place” podcast, where the former “Melrose Place” stars looked back at their time on the show. They shared cherished memories, talked about how “Melrose Place” affected their lives, and reminisced about the strong connections they built while working together.
The actor talked about how playing Jake Hanson made him famous and helped him make lifelong friends. He and his former co-stars shared laughs and fond memories, showing how strong their bond was from their time on and off the “Melrose Place” set.
My parents forced me to pay for my own dinner while they covered the bill for everyone else – Their justification was absurd
Jennifer’s parents caught her off guard during a family dinner by unexpectedly asking her to cover the cost of her meal, while they paid for everyone else. Jennifer’s resentment brews as the sting of unfairness deepens, setting the stage for a confrontation the family won’t forget.
The night I got the text from Mom about a “special family dinner,” I nearly choked on my microwaved ramen. It had been ages since we’d all gotten together, and even longer since it felt like my parents actually wanted me there.
love my family, but being the middle child is like being the bologna in a sandwich where everyone’s fighting over the bread.
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to make up some lame excuse, but then I thought about Tina and Cameron, my perfect older sister and my can-do-no-wrong little brother.
They’d be there, basking in Mom and Dad’s approval, like always. And I’d remain the perpetual afterthought if I didn’t show up.
“Count me in,” I typed, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Mom replied instantly. “Great! Le Petit Château, 7 p.m. next Friday. Don’t be late!”
Le Petit Château. Fancy. I whistled low, already mentally tallying up my savings. This wasn’t going to be cheap, but hey, maybe it was a sign things were changing. Maybe they actually wanted to spend time with me, Jennifer the Forgettable.
That Friday, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, feeling nervous. Just as I was about to go in, Mom and Dad showed up. Mom was all smiles, while Dad wore his usual concerned expression.
Inside, we found a cozy table, and soon after, Tina and Robert joined us. Tina looked stunning, as always, making me feel like a potato by comparison. Finally, Cameron arrived, late as usual, and complaining about traffic.
Now we were all settled, Mom wasted no time in making me feel insignificant.
“So, Jennifer,” Mom said, peering at me over her menu, “how’s work going? Still at that little marketing firm?”
I nodded, trying not to bristle at the ‘little’ part. “Yeah, it’s good. We just landed a pretty big client, actually. I’m heading up the campaign.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said, her attention already drifting back to Tina, who was regaling Dad with tales of her son’s latest soccer game.
That stung, but the atmosphere improved while we ate. The food was great, and soon we were talking and laughing like we used to when I was a kid.
I was enjoying the meal and the rare feeling of being part of the family, but then the check came.
Dad reached for it and started going over the bill, like he always did. But then he frowned, looking directly at me.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “you’ll be covering your portion tonight.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re an adult now,” he continued, as if explaining something to a child. “It’s time you start paying your own way.”
“But…” I started, my voice small, “I thought this was a family dinner. You’re paying for everyone else.”
Dad’s frown deepened. “Your sister and brother have families to support. You’re single, so it’s only fair.”
Fair. The word echoed in my head, mocking me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without a word, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the waiter, praying it wouldn’t get declined.
The rest of the night was a blur. As I drove home, the hurt began to curdle into something else. Something harder, angrier.
The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a heart full of resentment. I spent the day alternating between moping on the couch and pacing my apartment like a caged animal. By evening, something inside me had shifted.
I wasn’t just going to let this go. Not this time.
An idea started to form. Crazy at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine.
I invited Mom and Dad over for dinner and then spent days perfecting the menu. I cleaned my apartment until it sparkled, bought fancy candles, and even splurged on a tablecloth that didn’t come from the dollar store.
The night of the dinner arrived, and I was eerily calm. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. sharp. I took a deep breath and opened the door with a smile plastered on my face.
“Mom, Dad! Come in!”
Dad handed me a bottle of wine. “Place looks nice, Jennifer.”
“Thanks,” I said, ushering them to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
As I poured their wine, Mom settled onto the couch, her eyes roaming over my bookshelf. “So, how have you been, dear? We haven’t heard much from you since… well, since our last dinner.”
I forced a light laugh. “Oh, you know how it is. Work’s been crazy busy.”
We made small talk for a while, the conversation stilted and full of long pauses. Finally, the oven timer beeped, saving us all.
“Dinner’s ready!” I announced, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
I’d outdone myself with the meal: herb-crusted salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa salad that had taken forever to get right. Mom and Dad made appropriate noises of appreciation as they ate.
“This is delicious, Jennifer,” Mom said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
I shrugged, tamping down the flare of resentment at her surprise. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”
The dinner progressed smoothly, almost pleasantly. I almost forgot why I’d invited them over in the first place. Then Dad started with one of his lectures about financial responsibility, and I knew it was time.
As I cleared the plates and brought out a fancy tiramisu for dessert, I steeled myself. This was it.
“So,” I said casually, setting down the dessert plates, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
They both nodded, smiling. “It was wonderful, dear,” Mom said.
I smiled back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Great. That’ll be $47.50 each, please.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Mom’s fork clattered against her plate, and Dad’s face went through a rapid series of emotions – confusion, disbelief, and then anger.
“I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.
I kept my voice calm, channeling Dad’s tone from that night at the restaurant. “Well, you’re both adults. It’s time you started paying your own way.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “But… but this is your home. You invited us.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hardening slightly. “Just like you invited me to Le Petit Château. And then made me pay for my meal while covering everyone else’s.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by shame.
“Jennifer,” Dad started, his voice gruff. “That’s not… we didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what?” I interrupted, years of pent-up frustration finally boiling over.
“Didn’t mean to make me feel like I’m worth less than Tina or Cameron? Didn’t mean to constantly overlook me? Or did you just not mean to get called out on it?”
Mom reached out, trying to take my hand, but I pulled away. “Sweetie, we had no idea you felt this way.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to always be the afterthought in your own family?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“We love you just as much as your siblings, Jennifer.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as successful as Tina, just as hardworking as Cameron. But somehow, I’m always the one who’s expected to ‘act like an adult’ while they get a free pass.”
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavy with unspoken words and long-ignored feelings.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We… we owe you an apology, Jennifer. A big one.”
Mom nodded, tears in her eyes. “We never meant to make you feel less valued. You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ve just… we’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
I felt my own eyes welling up, but I blinked back the tears. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do better. To be better. To see me.”
Dad stood up, his movements stiff. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
Instead, he walked around the table and hugged me. It was awkward and a little too tight, but it was more genuine than any interaction we’d had in years.
“We see you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And we’re so, so proud of you. We’ve been blind and stupid, and we’ve taken you for granted. But that ends now.”
Mom joined the hug, and for a minute, we just stood there, a tangle of arms and unshed tears and long-overdue honesty.
When we finally broke apart, Mom wiped her eyes and gave a watery chuckle. “So, about that bill…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what. This one’s on the house. But next time we go out? We’re splitting the check evenly. All of us.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As they left that night, things weren’t magically fixed. Years of feeling overlooked and undervalued don’t disappear in one conversation. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I’d built around myself, letting in a glimmer of hope.
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