Member-only story
When I was young, my father used to cut my hair.
I would sit in the kitchen on a high chair with black vinyl seat and back, sheet draped around shoulders to collect the clippings, and my dad would have at it. He may have used an inverted bowl at one point, the better to achieve symmetry.
He may not have invented the bowl haircut, but I think he perhaps perfected it.
My father used comb and scissors and, at some point, electric clippers. I think he got fairly proficient, but never posed a threat to the village barber and never gave up his day job.
I have 3 older brothers.
If memory serves, all had their hair cut, at one time, by Father.
The savings were never tallied but I venture to guess the cumulative sum amounted to the hundreds of dollars, if not more.
That was significant, particularly at that time.
Until the latter part of his career as a small liberal arts college chemistry professor, my father’s income from work never exceeded four figures.
I knew no one who knew how to stretch a dollar like he and my mother.
In adulthood, I have taken to cutting my own hair.
There are several advantages:
If I get a bad cut, I have no one to blame but myself.
I can cut my hair anytime, day or night.
