The Haircut

Over many years in the barber's chair I have come to rely on the artistic talent and creativity of the person holding the clippers. I have without exception taken this moment in the chair as a time to relax and let someone else do the driving. At the end of my time I rise from the chair, give myself an approving look in the mirror and head for the cash register to sette-up. Now with fewer hairs to manage, at least on top of my head there is less to do and less time in the chair. There is new growth but has taken place in more protected areas such as the ears, nose, etc.

The question from the barber of what do you want done has been simplidfied to a single instructiion. "A number 3 buzz cut please." Judy has been cutting my hair at dockside or inside the boat with her clippers on number 3 and it always comes out very respectable. So it was with this simplified procedure and success record I entered the Quick Clip shop in Spokane, Washington where we are visiting. We had just come from a popular diner where not suprisingly, most of the patrons appeared considereably well fed.

When my name was called and freshly conditioned from sizes at the resaurant, I was not suprised to see my hair stylist who could be a regular at the diner. Anyway I plopped my skinny bottom in the chair and asked for a number three buzz cut. I should have been clued when she said, "Oh good, that will be easy." As she started to cut I realized her stomack was pressed against my arm. I waited for her to adjust then realizesd she couldn't reach me otherwise. I moved my arms together but we were still making body contact. I decided if it didn't bother her it didn't bother me, assuming she knew I was there.

As she progressed around my head she came to an area where she said, "Oh, you have a cow-lick here," and moved on. Having lived in Spokane and been on some farms I understood this as hairs in dissary needing special attention and not a result of close contact with farm animals. She finished her circumnavigation of my head in a few minutres and said, "There, how is that?" and stepped away, taking the pressure off my arm. My eyes are not that good anymore but still sitting in the chair I could see a patch of hairs sticking out on the right side of my head which must have been the cow-lick. I pointed out the unruly follicles. She saw them and with a sigh reached for a spray bottle of something and removed the number 3 from her clippers resulting in the right side hairs now significantly shorter than the left. When she finished she said, "How is that?" After starring at myself in the mirror for what seemed like a long time I said, "Shouldn't we do the same thing on the left side?" She took a deep breath and trucked all the way around the chair to the other side of my head and with another belly press trimmed that side to look the same.

We are starting to seriouly consider a place to live after our sailing adventure and Spokane is a prime candidate being our old home town. It would take some getting used to and we will need to add a few pounds to hold our own but that would be OK. The cruising life comes with its own built-in weight loss program so selling the boat will probably result in a few pounds added. We will be all right, I see no reason for Judy to stop cutting my hair but I would not want that to come with a belly press - at least not involuntarily.