“Cut And A Shave “ Chapter 104

Before I joined the Army, I only got a haircut a couple of times a year... maybe. To be honest, I couldn’t tell you specifically where I went for those haircuts or how often I went there. Grooming my hair had always consisted of drying my hair with a towel and quickly running a brush through it.

One time I volunteered to be a hair model while I was attending Barbizon (don’t laugh - I actually landed a few gigs and Ronald Regan himself was also a graduate). I got a free cut and blonde highlights. Well that was the plan, anyway. The cut itself was ok, but the stylist left the chemicals on too long and the highlights turned grey. Maybe that’s the “root” cause of my ALS? 😂 I mean, really. If you had lovely locks of hair, wouldn’t you want to be a model too?

On 1 April 1987, I arrived at Fort McClellan, AL for Army basic training. This was the first time I'd ever traveled to the south, and the very next day I got my locks of hair cut off. It wasn’t even "just" a cut... the good ol’ boy barber had some fun with this Yankee from NY. He started with a number 0 blade and cut a landing strip right down the middle. Then he decided to fly his clippers around the top of my head leaving me with piggy ears and a mullet. Of course we all know that I would have done the exact same if I was in his position. He then paused to show off his work to all his barber buddies for a quick laugh, and then buzzed the rest of it completely off. Two minutes later and I was done. The only thing he didn’t do was smack me in the ass as he took my money on the way out the door.

For the next 19 weeks we marched down to the barbershop. To add insult to injury, we still had to pay for these mandatory cuts, too. This walk down memory road does remind me of a cadence we used to sing in formation: “They say that in the Army the pay is mighty fine, they give you a hundred dollars and take back ninety- nine.” After the first few weeks of basic training our drill said we earned our hair back, and we could graduate to a “high and tight” haircut. You will never see a group of kids get so excited by a half an inch of hair as we were, and we got to pay too, Hell Yeah! Some of us even bought shampoo to celebrate. No more single bar of soap for our nuts, butts, and hair for us any more as we graduated to phase two. To be clear, we did each have have our own bars of soap.

The first picture below is my official basic training picture, and the second was after getting my first high and tight. I was so proud that haircut I sent a picture home to my parents. I’m sure my mom was just as happy as I was.

For the next 21 years in the Army, my hair was never much longer that what you see here. I got haircuts every two weeks or so, and never went longer than a month. It was always no longer than two inches on top. It was shorter on the sides and absolutely never over the ears. Years later when I became an instructor at one of the Army schools, I started getting haircuts every week again, but this was time consuming and costly. Not long after, Laura said she could start cutting my hair in order to save time and money. It was the first time she started cutting my hair and I was back to the high and tight.  At first it would take about an hour to cut and shave my head. Laura would shave my head on the sides and back, cut my hair with trimmers, and then fade it in. This would happen every single Sunday, and over time she got faster and faster, and never once cut me. The best part was that I didn’t have to pay AND she always gave me a smack in the ass when we were done. Double win!

You would think that after I retired from the Army I would want to grow my lovely locks of hair back and start modeling again, but after years of weekly hair cuts and keeping it short for so long, it grew on me. Even after my second retirement from Civil Service, I was still getting a haircut monthly, if not even more regularly.

For the past two years my beautiful niece has come to my house and cut my hair. She comes about every two months, gives me a nice and tight haircut, and has been such a blessing. She has been cutting hair for many years and currently works at the Navy Academy cutting hair for new Cadets. With the summer being so busy, it was about four months since she'd been here. She noticed my hair was quite long and that my curls were showing up again. We started talking about when I got my first haircut in basic training and how she does the same with the Plebes (first year Midshipmen/freshmen) now.

I also ask her to shave my face with the hot shaving cream and towel. I am basically spoiled and have dubbed it my spa day. There was only one problem this time when my niece came to cut my hair, and as a result, I am going to give you a very important tip - NEVER get your haircut and shave from a military barber 💈 when they don’t like the only real football team in America - Go Cowboys! As she was cutting my hair I suddenly had a flashback to 1987. When I looked in the mirror I had a full on Mullet, business in the front and party in the back. It’s a good thing I can still give people the LOOK! 👀 Once she saw my eyes, she took care of the back too.

Another serious problem is sitting for a hot shave with the game on the TV. Every time Dallas scored she would jump around. Now I’m not saying she did it on purpose, but I can’t figure out how I got all these cuts on my forehead. 😂🤣😂

But seriously, I am sincerely blessed. When I asked for a Mullet picture, some tissues, and a little ketchup for a picture documenting my Olympic-worthy eye roll, she happily obliged. After all, its not my fault that she’s not a Cowboys fan. You mess with the bull 🐂, you get the horns 🤘. And since nobody wants to read a blog about some guy getting a haircut, I might have seized the opportunity to embellish things just a little for you, my wonderful readers!

No PALS were hurt during the making of this blog.

Love and Blessings.

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