Saturday, July 19, 2008

A Little Off The Top

Me and my barber, Dane. I don't let anyone else touch my hair. If I walk into the shop and Dane isn't there, I'll leave. Helps that he owns the place. And helps that we've known each other about twenty years.

After Katrina, my boss at the office suggest a local barber. "Go to the corner of Gate 7 and Pass Road." I did. There were TWO barber shops. I picked the one with nicer sign. Inside, this cat about my age had an empty chair. I plopped down and received the more intricate, detailed, careful haircut I've ever had. And then the dude whips out a straight razor and shaves the back of my neck! That was a first. Then, for the whole procedure, I paid like $9. And I was hooked.

I probably went two more times before we started talking and figured out we both went to school in Long Beach, and when he said he was a drummer in Junior High, and graduated in '89, I said, "You're Dane M.!!!"

He said he was. (Which helped to explain the sign that said "Dane's Barber Shop.")

I said, "I'm Jon McDougal."

"No! You are not!"

"I am."

And we've had a good laugh ever since.

I swing by the shop about once every three weeks. And sometimes bring Liam. Our kids are about the same age. Our wives are about the same age. And we swap tales about old friends we come across. One of the perks of living in a smaller town.

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