One of life's small pleasures....a haircut

(Sung to the tune of the Beach Boys' Barbara Ann) Bar-Bar-Bar, Bar-Barber Mike; Bar-Bar-Bar, Bar-Barber Mike; You got me shakin' and a quakin; yeah, my head is achin' Barber Mike.

The boys and I used to sing this song years ago, and actually Barber Mike wasn't our barber then...it was Barber Gene...but that's another story. As our barbers got older and retired, I wondered if there would be anyone to replace them. After all, being a barber isn't the glitziest job in the world.

Probably 10 years ago, Barber Mike came to Mandan and apprenticed under another barber, whose name I forget. We liked Barber Gene, but he died. Actually he hung himself when he found out he was full of cancer, which left this other old barber. Mike was young and just out of barber school. He wasn't much of a barber, but neither was the other guy, and Barber Mike was friendlier so I let him cut my hair. Now 10 years later, Mike is about as good as they come and he's still friendly.

Like the old "Kansas City Star" song, Mike will tell you jokes if you like them or he'll talk politics if you like that sort of thing. I'm sure he's a Democrat when he has a Democrat in the chair and a Republican when he's cutting my hair. He likes to garden, just like me. I suppose if I liked to hunt, Barber Mike would like to hunt.

Anyway, tomorrow is the day that Dad and I will go again to the barbershop to get our haircuts. I've had lots of memorable barbers, but I think I like Barber Mike best. He's probably 18 years younger than me and probably 58 years younger than Dad, and yet he seems like our best friends when we're getting a hair cut. That's a bargain for $11.