Today, I finally decided I could no longer stand the ( now gray ) hair curling over the collar on the back of my neck and over my ears. My sideburns, too, were getting very ragged.
Numerous outings over the years to either of the unisex Great Clips ( although they have been a NASCAR sponsor ) locations near my suburban Charlotte home have never resulted in what I considered a satisfactory haircut. For one thing, none of the young girls working in those places know how to use a straight razor or how to properly use hair clippers. There's just not enough buzzing in a Great Clips to think you're gonna get a real haircut. A week later the hair is back over my ears and curling on the back of my neck.
So, I finally decided gas prices be damned and started on a journey halfway across a very spread out city of Charlotte to a neighborhood barber shop I had favored back in the 80s near my old office just off I-77 South and Woodlawn Road.
I immediately knew I was in the right place when I opened the door next to the faded, rotating red, white and blue barber pole. The now old proprietor, sitting in the lead chair, greeted me like an old friend, though it had been nearly two decades since I'd favored him with a visit. Three other barbers were hurriedly practicing their craft on an assortment of gentlemen whose attire ranged from Budweiser beer delivery uniform to high dollar business suit.
The sound in that old shop with the worn floors and ancient smell of Wildroot Creme Oil hair tonic was that of a disturbed hive of angry bees. BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!! Real hair clippers were being used by real barbers. The sound of an ancient barber shaking out a real linen protective wrap came with a "WOP" when he shook it. The sound of steel against leather was awesome as the old fellows sharpened their straight razors on the razor strops beside each old reclining barber chair.
My trip home took quite a while since I stayed off all the interstates and highway, choosing pleasant city streets with homes that had raised generations of families and whose trees canopying the streets had been planted early in the last century. That ride home made for some very pleasant thoughts.
Funny what we can be reminded of, but that old timey haircut ( the $14 price was NOT old timey) made me think of two other unexpectedly great haircuts I'd gotten while out on the road on racing trips. One was in California, one was in New York State. Both were in little one seat turn of the last century barber shops with those tiny black & white multi-sided ceramic tile floors. Both shops were owned by elderly Italian immigrant barbers. The conversations may have been better than the haircuts, which were superb.
Several times when we raced at Riverside, California, I drove up the Pacific Coast Highway and then flew home out of San Francisco. The first time we raced at Sears Point, I went out early and drove up the Pacific Coast Highway from San Francisco north to Oregon, stopping in numerous neat little places.
Driving up the Pacific Coast Highway one afternoon about 170 miles north of San Francisco, we saw a sign for Mendocino. We immediately began humming that great old 1969 tune "Mendocino" by Doug Sahn and his San Antonio-based Tex-Mex group, the Sir Douglas Quintet.
We decided to turn into that charming California town of Mendocino, where we quickly learned that the home of heroine "Jessica Fletcher" in the hit television show, Murder She Wrote was not in Maine at all, but was really the Blair House Inn in Mendocino, where scenes were being filmed with the star actress, Angela Lansberry and several roads were blocked off.
Mendocino was also home to the most delicious North Pacific fresh salmon snacks you have ever eaten. While walking in the old original downtown, I spotted the ancient barbershop where I got such a great cut.
On the first trip I made to Watkins Glen, I also went up early and decided to make a trip over to the National Baseball Hall of Fame at Cooperstown, New York. Cooperstown is named for James Fennimore Cooper, author of Last Of the Mohican s and Elmira, the nearest airport to Watkins Glen was home to author Mark Twain (Samuel Clements) - all in all it is a very literary area.
Heading over from Corning, New York to Cooperstown, we stopped late in the afternoon for the night in the tiny town of Oneonta, New York. That's just 28 miles south of Cooperstown and we decided to drive in the next morning. You may be familiar with Oneonta, Alabama, where there was a big Wrangler Jeans manufacturing division. According to the old Italian barber in Oneonta, New York, it and the Alabama town were " sister citie s."
That stop resulted in another old barber shop staffed by its barber/owner - the old Italian gentleman. Once again, the steel of the straight razor met the leather of the razor strop and the white linen coverall "popped" to attention. It was another great haircut in an unexpected place. Nothing like the feel of hot lather being smoothed on your neck and over your ears by an experienced hand in the land of Mohican and riverboat authors.
Amazing what memories a simple trip to the barber shop dredged up today. Those great barber shop finds on the racing road were even better than discovering the original old Krispy Kreme Doughnut Shop in Daytona!
Have you ever had any really, unexpectedly pleasant experiences while on the "racing road?"
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"Any Day is Good for Stock Car Racing"
updated by @dave-fulton: 12/05/16 04:02:07PM
