A barber shop

A barber shop. That’s what I want. Not a salon. Not another Supercuts, Great Clips, Sports Clips, or any other generic salon-style chain that have all but killed the Great American Barber Shop. I’m tired of salons. I’m tired of Great Clips, Sports Clips, Supercuts, et al. Salons are for the ladies. Men don’t see stylists; we see barbers. I want real barber chairs, hot shaving foam, straight razors. The operation overseen by a cast of crusty old SOBs who know how to talk sports, politics, hunting, fishing, power tools, cars; you know, guy stuff. Call the chamber of commerce, suggests my spouse. Ask them if they know of any in the town. Well, what do you know? :) Just opened this past October, the Back N Time Antique Barber Shop is what I’ve been looking for. The staff isn’t old, or crusty, and I’ve only been there once, so I can’t speak much as to if they are SOBs. But we talked March Madness and hockey. Complimentary sodas. Complimentary snacks & candy. Antique furniture, especially of the barber-shop variety. They have an old cash register that would take at least two guys to carry out the door, more likely three–if it wasn’t bolted to an antique cabinet. An old shoeshine stand stands guard by the front door, which is flanked by barber poles. Oh, right–the haircut. Aces. I got a great haircut in the kind of atmosphere I grew up with. I will definitely be seeing Steve, Fred, Ace, and Jimmie Z again.

March 18, 2003