The BarberShop (or, "I've become my dad" - Part 2)

This post may be a bit long - but it will be worth it.

I did a mental health day today - and took the day off. One of the stops that I made was to Lincoln City Barber Shop

"You go to a barber shop!?! A hip dude like you" - I know...surprising, isn't it? It was about a year ago. I had a convention to go to. It was a Saturday. "My stylist" (say that as you raise the pitch of your voice and elevate your nose slightly) couldn't get me in and I was looking shaggy. (SIDENOTE: guys always refer to the person that cuts their hair as either "their stylist" or "the chick that cuts my hair". Guys can't call that person their hairdresser or their beautician. It's a guy thing...don't ask me why).

So what am I supposed to do? - I mean, I am desperate because I have to look clean for this convention....and then, out of nowhere, there it is. Right in front of me. The solution? The place my Dad goes to get his haircut...the Barbershop. I think, "I can't do that, right?" I then answer myself, "dude, you don't have much choice. How bad can it be?"

Then, I remember the last time I went to a barbershop - and I remembered how bad it could be. It was high school. Me and my friend Cliff went. When we came out, we were both wishing that the barber had used bowls on our heads. You know that haircut, "you want a Mo...or do you want a Mo." We got ridiculed beyond belief. And that was the last of that...

Funny how those old memories come up - I hadn't thought about that in years. Yet they dredge up out of nowhere. Despite this, I bravely pull into the barbershop.

I take a seat - because that's what you do in a barbershop. The barber is finishing up with one customer and there is one in front of me. Ah yes....the wait. I remember it well. For some reason, the barbershop is one place where it's OK to wait. It's almost expected. Plus, if you are so bold, you can immediately join any conversation and it's like you are one of the regulars. The barbershop is a different kind of place. As I waited....

Panic started to strike me - "what if she screws this up? I'll be scarred for life!" I almost got up and left. I had to stop myself and think, "where the heck did that come from? Dude, it's only hair. It grows back. For goodness sakes, you can shave it off like you did a couple of years ago if you wanted to." Vanity had struck and was overcome!!!

I got the haircut - I went to the office. For the first time in many haircuts...oh, I am sorry...for the first time in many stylings, people came up and went, "hey, you're hair looks great!!!" Not only that....it keeps looking good between cuts...and I do let some time go between cuts.

While I don't go to that same barbershop (it closed) - I found a new one. It's a bit out of my way but the barbers are Chip and Al. Those are good names for barbers. Harry the Haircutter was the previous proprietor. Harry is a good name for a barber too. Perhaps, the best....and he was good. He'd cut hair all over the world for 50 years. You have to have a good rap to be a barber. And stroke your clients as you pet their hair. Harry was a pro. Unfortunately, Harry's health didn't hold up so he turned the shop over to Al.

So, what used to cost $30 plus a tip - now costs me $15 which I give Al or Chip a twenty for. They always try to give me change. They don't expect a tip. I like that too. So, how did the boys at Lincoln City Barbershop do today? Let's take a look:




"Scott, you look hot either way!!!" - oh, stop that. I hear that from everyone. While I know it's true, one thing that precedes my good looks is my humility. Yep...me and the barbershop are dialed in for the rest of this trip on the orb.

Plus - how can you do anything but love that barber pole? Americana...Floyd the barber. It's a good thing.