Haircuts

I hate having to go get a haircut. I rate it right up there with shopping. I don’t like to do either of them, but I do it because I have to. I know there are some people who will say that I should be happy that I still have hair to cut, but I still hate doing it. I go to the same place every time and I usually have one of two people that I’ve come to trust cut it each time. However, this last time I went, neither of my usual people were there and I actually got a double whammy.

First, I’ve never seen this person in the shop before so I’m assuming she is new. Second, she looked really young, like maybe she just got out of hairdressers school, or beauty school, or whatever they call it. Or worse, I’m thinking that she’s never even had any training. Perhaps, like my daughter, she started out cutting her Barbies' hair (my wife can attest to the fact that it was not a pretty sight). Maybe this young woman went from Barbies to her little brother – we’ve all seen the horrors of sibling induced hairdos on America’s Funniest Videos or the like. I almost turned around and left, but I really needed to get it cut. If my 12-year-old self could have seen me now, he would have been horrified that I even thought that it was necessary to get my hair cut. Times, and styles, change.

When I was young, I had no say in my hair style. When my friends were starting to grow their hair out, I still had a wiffle (or a buzz cut to some people). When my friends’ hair was over their ears, I was lucky that I still didn’t have a wiffle and could actually grow it out a little. In my family, we had an in-house barber and his name was Dad. He didn’t do fancy haircuts, nor did Dad do the latest styles. He had his own set of electric clippers, he put on the attachment for the length, and then it was zip, zip, zip – all your hair gone (just look at the family picture I use for this blog!). When I saw him setting up the stool in the middle of the dining room on a Saturday morning, even as a little guy I knew what was coming.

Apparently, so did one of my older brothers because he would take off to avoid Dad the Barber. This did not seem to bother Dad in the least. He'd say, “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be back.” After all, Dad wasn’t stupid. He knew that a teenage boy would have to come home to eat at some point. He’d be patient and bide his time, clippers at the ready. Now, I don’t know if this is my imagination or if it really happened, but it seems to me that you had to sit there and watch the other guys getting their hair cut while you waited your turn. Not that it took that much time. He didn’t let our hair get too long and, as I mentioned before, it was just a quick zip, zip, zip – all your hair gone. The older ones had some say, but us younger ones had no hope of letting the hair stay a bit longer.

I don’t remember when, but at some point Dad stopped being the family barber. I don’t remember where we went after that, either, but I do know that for as long as I can remember, I’ve not liked getting a haircut. Today, I still get shivers down my spine when I hear the buzz of the clippers near my ears, even if they’re not giving me a wiffle. I do my best to stay motionless so that there’s not one of those “Oops, I think I went too short” moments.

This story ends well, though. The new, young woman, cutting my hair for the first time, did a great job. I didn’t look like Moe from The Three Stooges, my hair didn’t look like it did in the blog picture, and when I got home my wife told me it looked great. Hey, if she likes it, then I have nothing to complain about. Overall, a good experience. And yes, I am happy that I still have hair to cut – even if there’s less of it each year and what’s left is getting grayer each year.

Don't Take a Lazy Man's Load

Another post in a series on Famous Family Sayings

One of the things I learned at an early age was that everyone had to pitch in and help. With so many people in one household, there was just too much for Mom and Dad to do everything themselves. I mentioned in this post that we all had chores to do in order to help out around the house and we all helped bring in items when any kind of shopping was done. We used to fill a shopping cart, and sometimes two, when grocery shopping was done.

Think about all the bags of food that would have to be brought into the house after Mom, Dad (and some of us kids) went to the store for the weekly shopping. There were a lot of bags to take care of. If we were in the middle of a game or an “important” TV show, we really didn’t want to have to go out and get all the stuff out of the car, bring it in to the house and help put it away, especially in the winter. We had different ways of dealing with this. Some of us went out right away, took as much as we could carry and brought it in; others took their time and took as little as possible as slowly as possible. We all did our best and tried to not drop anything.

But here’s the thing that used to confuse me. Dad would often say to us, “Don’t take a lazy man’s load.” I always tried to take as much as I could so I thought he was talking to the few who were taking just a couple of things at a time. I figured they were being lazy by just taking a couple of things when they could take more. However, as time went on, I noticed that Dad said “Don’t take a lazy man’s load” even when we all had as much as we could carry. I figured he must be talking to the older ones because us “little ones” were carrying big loads. At least we felt like we were.

It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I discovered what “Don’t take a lazy man’s load” really meant. It wasn’t that you took too little, but that you took too much. We would try to take as much as we could, probably too much, so that we didn’t have to go back and forth multiple times to get more. So even though we thought we were being smart and cutting down on the trips in and out, we were actually being lazy. All those years, when I figured Dad was talking to the others, he was actually talking to me.

It’s no wonder I used to hear that phrase a lot when I was helping carry things. He probably thought there was something wrong with me because as much as he told me to not take a lazy man’s load, I still did. What a knucklehead I was! I can see why he had that edge of aggravation when he told me. It’s too bad it took me almost ten years after Dad died to figure this out. Sorry, Dad.

After hearing “Don’t take a lazy man’s load” for all those years, you would think I would no longer do that, right? Well, unfortunately, I still do it today when we go shopping. I load up with as many bags as I can so I don’t have to go outside a bunch of times. The funny part of this is that I still hear Dad’s voice telling me to not take a lazy man’s load. I guess I still haven’t learned my lesson after all these years.

Open Your Eyes

I recently had to have my pupils dilated for a test with the eye doctor. It is a relatively simple process; they put some drops in your eyes, you wait 20 – 30 minutes and then your pupils are dilated enough that they can take snapshots of the back of your eyes so they can see all the blood vessels and veins and such. While it doesn’t hurt, it was a little uncomfortable for me because…well, your pupils aren’t supposed to let in that much light.

While this was going on it got the wheels turning in my brain and I was thinking about how cool it would be if there were some drops you could put in your eyes and you would see things more clearly. Not just more light would be let in, but everything would be seen like it was in HD. Imagine the possibilities:

·     If you misplaced something, you’d be able to see it quicker. No more lost keys, cell phones, or kids.

·     When you went shopping and tried on that outfit you “just have to get”, you would see that although it looks great on other people, it just doesn’t look so good on you.

·     When your kids came to ask for something, you’d know right away if they were up to something. You’d see it in their eyes.

·     When you asked your kids a question about a test at school, or if they had any homework, they wouldn’t be able to lie. Again, you’d see it in their eyes.

·     When you got lost driving and didn’t have a GPS, you’d clearly see the way you needed to go to get back on track.

·     Before you put any junk food into your mouth, you’d see what it was going to do to you – both now and in the future.

·     You would be able to see what is important in life.

That would be awesome, wouldn’t it? Or would it? I started thinking some more and realized that in addition to seeing all those things, you’d see a lot of other things, too, because those drops would allow you to see much clearer than you do now, such as:

·     When you asked someone how they’re doing and they said they were doing fine, you’d see that they’re actually not doing very well and maybe even in a lot of pain.

·     You would also see that many people that have a big smile on their face are actually crying on the inside.

·     You would see that some people that seem to have it all together are hiding something that would tear their world apart if it ever got out.

·     You wouldn’t be able to fool yourself any more and you’d see that maybe your own life wasn’t what it was cracked up to be.

·     You would be able to see that some of the things you thought were so important in life really aren’t important at all.

I like to think that I have good insight into people, but I definitely don’t pick up on a lot of things. I’m not sure I’d really, truly like to see everybody exactly as they are and everything exactly as it is – the good, the bad and the ugly. I wouldn’t mind the good, but I’m not sure I’d want to see the bad and the ugly, especially in myself. As with the amount of light being let in by my pupils in the dilation test, I don’t think I could handle that much.