Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Grey Matter

My wife and I were married around thirty-two years ago and that was also the last time I sat in a barber chair. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford a barbershop haircut, although it was close. Shucks, I’d been getting barbershop haircuts since I was old enough to sit on the board Mr. Ennis would put across the arms of the barber chair at the Cove Barber Shop in 56’. I still remember him pumping that chair up with me on the board so his back wouldn’t spasm during the procedure. You want to talk about self-esteem?! Try getting pumped up on a barbershop board in front of ten patrons. But, I must say, the Cove Barber Shop was also the place where you could improve on your prepubescent vocabulary by listening carefully to the guys who didn’t have to sit on the board. I always felt like I had a lot less hair but a lot more flair when I left ol’ Ennis’s barbershop.

Yes, thirty two years ago we were in love and I’d learned about all I could from sitting on the board, which was a lot because I was small and had been sitting on that thing for a while. Well, she was also in love with my hair. I suppose she saw it as something that was temporary and therefore needed to be loved and cherished. Of course there’s always the possibility she saw the value in saving on haircuts. I figure we’ve saved around three thousand dollars in these last thirty-two years. I haven’t actually seen any of that money but her closet is full of shoes and very few pairs are flip-flops. She’s always been smarter than I when it comes to turning a shortfall into an excess. But that’s another story. What woman, if given the chance, wouldn’t convert her husband’s haircut money into shoes? Sure, there’s labor involved here, but I bought the scissors. Plus, it used to take her about thirty minutes to get the job done. Now we’re done in the time it takes a squirrel to eat a nut.

I know this because I watch them as she cuts my hair on the deck. Have you ever watched a squirrel eat a nut? Don’t blink. Well, these days she fakes it in an effort to make me think she’s still having to put forth maximum effort in the trimming and of course still cherishes these “weeds” that resemble hair. So I hear ridiculous comments like, “Oh my, there’s a new one up here” or “It appears to be growing faster on the starboard side than port!” Sure. Like this stuff is coming back and Katie bar the door, buy some big boy clippers and pomade! Will you please!? Can we not just slip away in dignity? Head slick as a wick and if not for eyebrows extending to the forehead, there would not be a shred of forestation near the peak. Not to mention the fact that she cannot wait to see it blown off the deck and into the back yard, which bothers me just a bit. How times change. And yes, some days I feel as though I’m ten and still sitting on the board as she takes this opportunity to inform me of everything wrong in our lives and the lives of everyone we’ve ever known or read about. She subscribes to People and that’s a lot of folks. You’d think she’d be spending her time collecting what’s left of my “grey” matter or at the least, sucking it into a vacuum cleaner for some future display on a mantle. I learned a lot sitting on that board and for sure, nothing lasts forever. But looking on the bright side, in dog years I’m still only around ten, still sitting on the board.

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