Of course, my barbers (Chuck and Tony) and I lost out, because Ben ended up going to a place they call “Cookie Cutters,” which apparently is a place where they put you in a plastic car, let you watch cartoons and then cut your hair crooked with cooking utensils. Oh yes, AND they charge you too.

As you can tell, I am not a fan of the commercialization of tradition. The same guys cut my hair and even though I have moved about 25 miles away, they will continue to. Scott gets his hair cut there, and soon Ben will. A barber to a man is a very personal thing, and the barbershop is an important place in our lives. Sure there are guys who like to have the young ladies cut their hair, but I have no interest in watching women or cartoons, and I am going to get my haircut, not to go someplace that smells like flowers or where they give you water in a wine glass.

But he will get to my barber soon enough. There are just some things that I need to see him do!

Goodnight my friends and God Bless!