"I Want a High and Tight"--That's What She Said!!

Before my father's sperm hit the wall of that month's egg to form a fetus in my mother's womb, I had a barber. I had a barber the way most men get barbers--their grandfather or father had a barber. I got my first haircut from the man who would subsequently cut my hair for the next 20 years, and that's not hyperbole. I had to find a new barber because I decided that 20 years of the same haircut was enough. Plus he retired. This man cut hair down the street from my grandparents, and since they were the babysitters, haircuts were a regular occurrence. Mostly because it got my grandfather out of the house. I didn't mind because I would get a strawberry ICEE afterward. Later on, once I was old enough to understand/make my own appointments, I would sit back in the chair and bask in the kind of non-threatening casual racism that the Greatest Generation excels in. The generation that served with those of another race in World War II, realized they were their equals, and got back home and just kept right on calling them coloreds for another 30 years or so. Just 'cause.

Once I ventured out into the world of multiple barbers, I realized something: People really care about their haircuts. They know what they want, and how many inches and what gauge trimmer to use, and they get angry if it doesn't look right. I treat a trip to the barbers like I do the Bass Pro Shop, or ordering a pizza over the telephone. I rarely have any clue what I want, and once I figure it out, I can't form any sort of coherent sentence to describe my wishes and desires.

Does It Look Like These Dicklicks Know How To Cut Hair?

Here is what used to happen at the barbers. You go into the barbershop. If they were cool they would have some sort of rigged up barber's pole, because that's bad ass no matter how you slice it. You would sit down in the waiting area with decades old Field and Streams, after saying hi to Bobby (the barber, of course) and wait your turn. In silence. Then you would sit down in a chair that was designed to torture prisoners in the Malaysian jungle and he would cut your hair. He never asked what you wanted. As far as he was concerned God made one haircut, and you got it, Buster. Then the other people in the barber shop would talk about Lord knows what. Honestly, did you ever hear anything you understood in the barbershop? It was always about some old guy you didn't know, doing something you didn't understand, like farming. Or work. Then it was over; you paid him 7 bucks and went away. Repeat.

All barbers used to be men. Guess why. Because they were all drafted 60 years ago and taught barbering by good ole Uncle Sam. Now all barbers are women. Guess why. Because every man who was ever interested in cutting hair (and not being on the cover of Vogue) is dead. I frequent a place called Sports Clips nowadays. This is a place catering specifically to men. There are 10 chairs and they are all manned by women. Now granted, they do a good job, but it's not the same. I order a number 6 around the sides and scissors on the top. Do you want to know the secret of how I know to say things like that? I heard some yuppie businessman say the same thing next to me one day, and I liked his haircut. This place has televisions set to Sports Center next to the chairs, but again, women, so instead of getting my hair cut and hearing about how great the Patriots are, I have to make small talk for the 25 minutes it inevitably takes before she forcibly puts some sort of mousse in my hair.

Now That's More Like It

I am not saying that women don't make good barbers. I personally like each haircut I have received at said establishment. I am saying that the mystique of a youthful past is gone, and replaced by *product* and me hearing about how this lady's daughter dislikes her mother's preference in men who have facial hair(actual conversation). A conversation made creepier by the fact that a) she admitted to me she is 39 and b) I have facial hair.

I suppose finding a place that you like to cut your hair, or a doctor you trust, is just another one of those things you do when you grow older. And since the last great generation of male barbers is dying out, our children will never get to be in that environment, as fucked up as it most likely was.

In closing, Ice Cube is a great actor.