<h3>A haircut and recollections</h3>

This afternoon I went to the barber for the first time since I was five years old. No, my hair doesn't reach my waist, my mother has always cut my hair but it has been getting thin and graying lately so I thought maybe I should let a pro have a look at it.

I opened the door and the old man in the barber's chair looked at me and said "can I help you." I explained that I wanted a haircut. The old man pointed to a hand-written sign on the back wall: "No new customers" it read. I apologized and and before I could get it out of my mouth the man said "but, since you're here I can give you a quick trim."

He put down his newspaper and motioned for me to sit in the dark green vinyl and chrome chair. The old barber with unruly white hair and big bushy white eyebrows explained that he likes to work but is trying to cut back. "There were three of us here; now it's just me...48 years," he said "in this same chair."

"A medium trim okay?" he asked, as he put the gown around me and tied it in the back. "Sure" I replied, and he spun me around and removed my glasses. The console TV in the corner had the local news on it. Without my glasses I could only see fuzzy blue images as I listened to the forecast for next few days.

The barber used an electric trimmer to do the back and sides. Then with a comb in one hand and scissors in the other he trimmed the top. "I did my apprenticeship about an hour south of here," he reminisced, "back in '56."

Then, with his left hand holding firmly on to the top of my head, he trimmed around my ears with a straight razor. I could feel the tremor in his hand as he positioned the razor. "Not many old-time barbers around anymore," he told me, "there used to be one on each corner here; now it's just me." Without warning he applied cool shaving cream to the back of my neck and again with just a bit of a tremor he used that straight razor to put the finishing touches on my haircut.

He spun the chair around and faced me towards the mirror and as he placed my glasses on my head he asked "how's it look?"

"Perfect" I said.

He told me the names of some good barbers in the area and suggested that I try one of them next time. I thanked him for the haircut and handed him a ten dollar bill. He thanked me, picked up his newspaper, and sat down again in his chair.