Haircuts oddly occupy a small part of my heart. I didn’t realize it until sometime in my late twenties when I was thinking about my first attempt at writing a memoir. I thought, “What themes or events really changed my life?”
The truth is, I have no business writing a memoir (at least a commercial one) because my life was pretty damn boring, but still, I had my ups and downs. The one constant through those times, no matter what phase of my life I was in, I could always count on getting my haircut by my dad. Or after some harrowing experience or event, I could just mark the close of a chapter by asking him to just shave it all off. I never thought twice about it, but it was such a unique experience and actually the ultimate bonding activity. I mean, what else could I do except sit there and talk to my old man while reflecting on things and getting my haircut?
I still got haircuts even after I went to college and effectively moved out. In fact, I was sort of scared to get my hair cut by a stranger, and also extremely cheap about it – I had been getting them free my entire life, why would I fork over $20 to someone else to do it? So even in the first couple of years in college, I’d tough it out the entire semester and avoid getting my hair cut until I went home for break.
As I got older and held a job, I needed to remain presentable, so of course I started getting my hair cut more regularly. But still, whenever I visited home, I’d plop down for a cut even if I wasn’t in need of one. And when I married your mother, of course it became a big deal for my mother to start cutting my hair. After all, it was basically a tradition my parents have started. So your mother inherited a spare set of barber tools and got a crash course in cutting hair.
But in the first two years, your hair’s been cut mainly by grandpa and your mom, yet I feel a yearning to preserve the tradition by taking over haircutting duties myself. I know it’s a lot easier said than done, and I’m a pretty lazy person…but sometimes there’s a higher calling. We’ll see where we end up by the time you’re reading these letters.