Jan 29, 2009

The Last Refuge of Man

I believe that the last refuge for men is disappearing. I mean, how many barbershops have you seen lately? They are part of my memories for sure. I still remember when my dad would take me to the barber. It was actually below street level in a small southern town. It was as bright as day in there as with mirrors on two walls behind gleaming black leather upholstered white and chrome barber chairs. And then there was the barber in a starched white shirt with a tie knotted perfectly. His hair cut was immaculate and he had a brush sticking out of the back pocket of his dark trousers. He would put a padded board across the chair arms for me to sit on. His hands turned my head into the proper position for the electric clippers to do their job. In a few minutes he was finished with a sprinkling of talc and a quick brushdown. He gave me a lolip9p and I waited while Dad got his hair cut. I looked at the pictures in the hunting and fishing magazines.Businessmen would come in for haircuts and shaves. Some of them while waiting would get their shoes shined by the old black man who had a shoeshine chair in one corner of the shop. He would sometimes sing a little song and play a little tune with the shine rage on his customers shoes. As I grew older I noticed the odors of hot lather and Wildroot Cream Oil. Yes, there was a time for Butch Wax which was about the time I noticed the scantily clad women on the Lucky Tiger hair tonic bottle.


Barber shops gave way to styling salons and shops that cut both men and women's hair. Men started getting razor cuts and perms. And most of the haircutting was done by women. Now more bottles of Lucky Tiger. No more Hunting and fishing magazines. What was a guy to do?


Not so long ago in a strip mall I found a place with a that rare symbol. Right outside the store front there it was gently turning in the morning that red, white and blue sign which I sought: a barber pole.


So I just had to go in. I needed a haircut since I didn't go to those other places unless I had to. The shop had three chairs and the wall behind them was covered with mirrors. I could smell the hot lather and I believe I saw a bottle of Lucky Tiger on the shelf. I took a seat and awaited my turn. While waiting I checked out the latest issues of Sports Afield and Road and Track. There was some Allman Brothers playing on the music system You know: "...I was born in the back of a Greyhound bus goin' down highway 41..." There was a lot of talking going on around me. Guys were discussing hunting and fishing and that surgically enhanced girl on Bay Watch. Some fella asks me, "Do you ever think that Dale Jr. will get his act together?"


By the time I got into the chair there was hardly any one was left. I got the full treatment: shave shampoo, haircut AND a scalp massage. Boy did I feel good! I paid the barber and when in came a young woman in jeans and a western shirt. She doffed the cowboy had plopped herself down in the chair and said, "A little off the sides, Hank!"


I haven't been back. you see, don't need to.

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