Durring the first week of the month when I get my social security check, I go get a haircut. It's something I've been used to doing most of my life. In the army we always went and got trimed up after payday so the first sargent would'nt have to say anything to us. Old habits die hard, and I've never been one to have long hair.
This shop I go to is one of the last of an institution around here. Most of them are gone, replaced by something called unisex hair salons. They'll be throwing snowballs in the nether reagions before I go there. I like the old fashioned barber shop where the only people in there are the guys. Most of them you know, and if you don't, its as if you do. The barber I go to is an old Italian guy who's been cutting hair since about the time steam trains gave way to the diesels.
This last time I was in there, it was the usual crowd of noon day loafers, another term for us retired reprobates. Most of us had seen each other before. There was the usual mess of day old newpapers and sport magazines on the tables and I was looking through the paper, while listening to old Walt argue the evils of reality shows with Tony the barber. Being in the market for new windows in my house, I decided to cut out an add from a local home improvement company giving free esemates and 20% off with this coupon. I'm not proud.
Taking out my pocket knife I stated to neatly clip out the coupon. This got some attention.
Its a very pleasent change of pace to take out a knife in public anymore, and have people interested in what kind of knife you have. With one fell swoop conversation in the shop went from women, politics, cars, ( not in that order) to pocket knives. Now keeping in mind all the people present in that barber shop are retired old farts, all of them grew up in a world where a man was expected to have a a job, a watch, and a pocket knife. Not particularly in that order!
Walt stopped argueing with Tony long enough to admire the old Case in my hand. He then told us to look at this- and took out his pocket knife. He had a nice old two bladed serpintine jack, that when he handed it over I could read the "Western, Boulder Colorado," under all the dark staining. The barber, Tony, was not to be left out of this in his own shop, took out a small knife that when he opened it and held it out was a small Schrade Uncle Henry stockman. Walt scoffs the stainless steel in the Uncle Henry and Tony the barber gets irate telling Walt its served him for over twenty years, go stuff yourself. Sometimes I think Walt lives to argue, and by this time I'm wondering if I'm going to get my haircut.
The whole time this is going on, Hoppy has been sitting quietly taking it in. Hoppy is a small guy who looks kind of like Richard Farnsworth. White hair, snowy moustache. He lets out a whistle, everyone looks his way. He takes out HIS pocket knife and makes the statement its the best knife around. He has an old beat up Swiss Army knife. The knife gets included in the pass around while the argueing renews.
Now by this time here's four old geezers standing around the barber chair holding opened pocket knives, passing them around when the wonder of the situation hits me. I'm in a public place, with a bunch of open knives, and having a blast with our little show and tell. I'd like to see that happen in a unisex hair salon.
This shop I go to is one of the last of an institution around here. Most of them are gone, replaced by something called unisex hair salons. They'll be throwing snowballs in the nether reagions before I go there. I like the old fashioned barber shop where the only people in there are the guys. Most of them you know, and if you don't, its as if you do. The barber I go to is an old Italian guy who's been cutting hair since about the time steam trains gave way to the diesels.
This last time I was in there, it was the usual crowd of noon day loafers, another term for us retired reprobates. Most of us had seen each other before. There was the usual mess of day old newpapers and sport magazines on the tables and I was looking through the paper, while listening to old Walt argue the evils of reality shows with Tony the barber. Being in the market for new windows in my house, I decided to cut out an add from a local home improvement company giving free esemates and 20% off with this coupon. I'm not proud.
Taking out my pocket knife I stated to neatly clip out the coupon. This got some attention.
Its a very pleasent change of pace to take out a knife in public anymore, and have people interested in what kind of knife you have. With one fell swoop conversation in the shop went from women, politics, cars, ( not in that order) to pocket knives. Now keeping in mind all the people present in that barber shop are retired old farts, all of them grew up in a world where a man was expected to have a a job, a watch, and a pocket knife. Not particularly in that order!
Walt stopped argueing with Tony long enough to admire the old Case in my hand. He then told us to look at this- and took out his pocket knife. He had a nice old two bladed serpintine jack, that when he handed it over I could read the "Western, Boulder Colorado," under all the dark staining. The barber, Tony, was not to be left out of this in his own shop, took out a small knife that when he opened it and held it out was a small Schrade Uncle Henry stockman. Walt scoffs the stainless steel in the Uncle Henry and Tony the barber gets irate telling Walt its served him for over twenty years, go stuff yourself. Sometimes I think Walt lives to argue, and by this time I'm wondering if I'm going to get my haircut.
The whole time this is going on, Hoppy has been sitting quietly taking it in. Hoppy is a small guy who looks kind of like Richard Farnsworth. White hair, snowy moustache. He lets out a whistle, everyone looks his way. He takes out HIS pocket knife and makes the statement its the best knife around. He has an old beat up Swiss Army knife. The knife gets included in the pass around while the argueing renews.
Now by this time here's four old geezers standing around the barber chair holding opened pocket knives, passing them around when the wonder of the situation hits me. I'm in a public place, with a bunch of open knives, and having a blast with our little show and tell. I'd like to see that happen in a unisex hair salon.
