I got my ears lowered today. Left with both of them intact, thankfully, as people are speaking QUIETER to me these days. I also am asking, “WHAT did you say?” more frequently. My hair stylist did a GREAT job, considering what she had to work with. I refer to her as a MAGICIAN. She’s incredible with a wand and scissors. She’s a cut above everybody else.
Back in the day, as a rambunctious 8 year old, I would race my bike down to the local barber shop in a strip mall. Parked my 2-wheeler under the red, white & blue-striped pole. A three chair shop, I’d take a seat in the red vinyl chairs hugging the wall and I’d hum along with the loud, crackly radio…and wait. With eager anticipation.
When it was my turn, I’d quickly scamper up into that big chair and sit on the booster seat. Conversation was limited. Only instructions were to sit still. The deafening hum of the clippers indicated when he started my buzz job and the loud humming ceased when he had no more hair to clip. The barber would pull the hair-catching apron away, the cue for my next move. I’d hop down, pay the man my 75 cents and he’d give me a piece of bubble gum. I couldn’t RIP the paper off that treat fast enough! My teeth worked DOUBLE time to fashion that pink wad into a malleable shape conducive for blowing large bubbles.
Steering my blue, Schwinn sting ray toward home, my feet worked those pedals in perfect rhythm with my jaws. The coolness of the breeze, now apparent as it bounced off the freshly-shorn sides of my juvenile noggin, elicited a strange, but WONDERFUL, feeling that I was a “new” person. Somehow a simple haircut instilled this magical euphoria. It went beyond the comments and attention I knew were coming from the kids and teacher on Monday. Can’t explain it, really.
Today, I had driven to a new salon. My stylist had just moved to this location. A beautiful, multi-level, 105-year old residence, fresh from a magnificent 3-year long facelift, was the new home for the salon. Greeted by a smiling & cheerful receptionist, I was offered coffee and cookies before taking a seat. Looking around as I sipped and chewed, my sensory organs took in this visceral experience.
I saw architecture both new and old melded perfectly. Background music was just that…in the b.g. Noticeable, not overpowering. I could still hear myself think. The spacious, bright and airy rooms allowed the 25 stylists to spread out in two-to-three chair clusters. Muted conversations were peppered with laughter and buoyant sounds of enjoyment. A good omen when someone stands behind you with a razor-sharp object!
Ten minutes later, the magician came over, gave me a warm greeting, then escorted me to her miracle chair. I gave instructions on what I expected to look like in 30 minutes, then sat back, relaxed, and watched her make it happen. Clip, clips and snip, snips were intermingled with relevant, personalized conversation. She even laughed at my corny jokes. Half way thru, I was whisked to the shampoo room where professional fingers organically cleaned & conditioned my locks and massaged my scalp. This was ALMOST better than bubble gum. Toweled dry, back to “the chair” I went. Final cutting, shaping & trimming, her masterful eye focused intently on exceeding my expectations.
A quick spin of the chair enabled me to give my reflection the once over. I smile broadly and nod approvingly. Casually I stand and give her my credit card. After a moment she returns it, we schedule my next appointment, then hug and say our “See you later”s.
I take confident strides across the floor, turning my head to capture the looks and nods of admiration from clients and stylists alike. I FLOAT out to my vehicle. I replay in my mind this same feeling from 50 years ago and mouth the word, “Magical.”