A gray tufted geezer was spotted today he of
splayed belly and duck footed gate shuffling into a place with the
straightforward name of Sid and Willie’s barbershop. Sid and Willie’s
barbershop home of the “regular" man’s haircut as if by looking around at the
pool of mediocrity waiting for their regularness to be polished back into high
relief, you had any other choice.
The man in question, being so far from regular that a haircut delineated as such should have no real purchase for him except that on the surface, Madras short-sleeved shirt, khaki slacks, tasseled loafers, he is a case study. From the outside this man resembles middle class America, right out of central casting replete with a cordiality of manner that might prompt the doyen of regularity Norman Rockwell to blow his brains out.
However,
if you do have the stones for a grudge match with finitude and are in need for
a little existential sobriety to boot, Sid and Willie’s is the place. Sit down
in the waiting area on any one of the rust and waterproof tandem beam seats and
before you are called to your destiny enjoy the herky jerky parade of tertiary
stage decrepitude, codgers with government subsidized walkers who upon clearing
the door’s threshold are followed closely by their own elderly issue with
canes. These future decomposers are at Sid and Willie’s in hope that either Sid
or Willie can fit them in so their souls can receive a final trim.
It
is one thing to have your ears lowered, it’s another thing to have your IQ
lowered too. In Sid and Willie’s case three barbers cut heads (the third man is
a cousin) and everyone including the patrons watch Fox in a trance. Men’s
barbershops are not think tanks or bastions of free thought. They are places
that have been preserved in formaldehyde where the channel is never changed and
the only good opinion is no opinion. Patrons keep it close to the vest not
offering anything remotely resembling a human dimension, unless the topic is
grout, then it’s off to the races.
What
is a “regular” man’s haircut anyway? Is it a style that only regular men wear
with confidence? Or is it a tonsorial destiny that men must avoid lest they be
deemed regular? Either way asking for a regular man’s haircut is not only a
desperate plea for intervention, but also a blast from an existential shotgun.
Regular men descend on Sid and Willie’s to get this haircut because it best
represents their style of life and that would be a “regular” one.
A "regular" man’s haircut is for regular men only, men who fulfill a destiny that
has been handed to them by virtue of their regularity, appointments are kept,
lawns are edged, traditions are followed. Laws are always abided. Loved ones
are loved. There is no room for introspection because introspection requires
specialness something in short supply for regular men. Iconoclasts and the
savage minded need not apply.
Why
would any man willingly sit for a coiffure that delineates the pecking order
when deep down he knows that only regular men ask for “regular” men’s haircuts?
I ask this because I am next with either Sid or Willie, (it really doesn't matter. It all depends on the serendipitous pace of each) and The Grim Reaper is sitting next to me impatiently
riffling through a ten-year-old copy of Popular Mechanics.
When
I was a little kid my mother would send me to the local barbershop to get a
“regular” boys haircut for $1.75. Fast-forward 50 years and now I’m at Sid and
Willie’s asking for the same thing in a man’s version for 12. How does a man
with so much early promise find himself 50 years later enduring stories about
grout in the most rudimentary of tonsorial parlors?
Simple…because
it’s goddamn hair! This isn’t brain surgery for twelve bucks! I’m getting my
haircut. Would I rather go to a chain shop and have to endure the infantile
palaver of a 19-year-old high school drop out for 20? I think not. Practicality
rules the day when it comes to haircuts something only “regular” men know
about.
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