Growing Up- Haircuts

Growing up with paper routes, we learned the value of money. One of the things mom and dad taught us was if you saved your money, you could buy something you REALLy wanted or put it away and invest it in a savings account for something in the future. Mom and dad practiced what they preached. If we saved on a few costs, we could take that trip to Colorado this summer or fishing in Minnesota.

This meant home haircuts. Since the beginning of our time on earth, dad was the master barber. When it came time to cut your hair, you would follow dad to the basement where a chair would be set up in the laundry room and a towel or old shirt for catching the clippings. You held it as tight as you could or you knew the consequences. I can still feel the tiny cuttings that fell down my neck and on my back after a moments distraction. You hung in there as still as possible till dad was done or you knew that his work of art could become "modern art". After, dad would brush you off and off you go as he cleaned up the salon. Dad was so good, that we carried on this tradition well into high school.

Now, when dad wasn't able and it was an emergency, mom would gladly jump at the chance to pinch hit. More than one occassion, we all had disagreements on hair styles. Hey, this was the 50's, 60's and 70's! Dad would generally follow our desires. Mom, on the other hand, knew she had you once you were strapped in. Before you knew it, she had her style in process before you could even wimper a challenge.

On the plus side, the old refrain of " Don't worry, it will grow out" was true. However, everyone at school knew when you had a good or no so great haircut in the Jensen barber chair, hence the coining of "bad hair day.".