The Barber of North Portland

 Going to the barber shop is an entirely different experience in 2023 than it was as a kid in the 1950s and 60s.  Back then,  it was a man's world with calendars, magazines, and conversation. It was all male-centered.  

There was one barber who specialized in cutting women's hair, but I only saw him do that a few times in my first 20 years.  Today, I go to what I like to call, "my hipster barber shop."  Depending on the time of day, you can sip a beer or some good whiskey while waiting.  There are a few coffee table-type books but most folks just amuse themselves on their smartphones.  Those phones are used for obtaining appointments and making payments, including tips for the work done.

In my barber shop today, the haircutters are both men and women.  An equal number usually.  But what I like most is the conversation I enjoy with my favorite barber there.  He's young, 26, and loves to chat.  He's also very good at what he does, from the first few clips through to the shaving of the neck.  

    I like the conversation but must also note the music played is often rock and blues with a sprinkling of jazz and pop.  So different that the Perry Como, Bing Crosby, or Doris Day tunes from my childhood.  

The barbers often look like the historical photos on the walls there.  They have big, well-maintained beards, and wear pocket watches on chains.  But my man, Dash, is thin with short hair,  and a most curious disposition.

We talk about pop culture, books, music, and the outdoors.  Like me, he likes to fish and even fly fishes.  His fiance is always referred to as "my lady."  I think he's intrigued by the fact that I taught high school for 35 years and often asks me questions about that.  But the last time I was there we explored our age difference. It's 50 years!  "What's it like to be old?" he asked in all seriousness.  It's different and not different from being young I responded in all seriousness.  He liked the fact that I told him in my find I'm sometimes 19.  The body tells a different story, though.  

Last week Dash told me a funny story about the oldest customer he has.  This 90-year-old comes in about every two weeks.  According to Dash, "He has very little hair on the top of his head and what he does have on the sides is thin and rather wispy." 

Dash continued, "When I'm done he looks in the mirror, pats the wispy hair on the sides and then says, Yougive a great haircut." 

I don't thin I'll ever get to that stage.

Silver Path

 On the eve of my 25th Wedding Anniversary 

Our slow dance continues,

   We walk this silver path together 

into a new forest.

We have received the greatest gift of all,

          Time

The best rest on this sojourn is the

   Space we find available...always.

We are only alone with ourselves when it matters,

   Beyond fear and despair,

The music plays ever slowly for partners 

   Who care, and are there.

Cap n' Gun

     It was bound to happen.  A shooting at a high school graduation just seems par for the course these days.  I can't think of a worse place for panic.  As a veteran of at least 30 high school graduations, I've seen them decline in quality and substance.  For that reason, I volunteered to run the tryouts and judging of grad speakers at my high school.  I did that for about 10 years.  Of course, there were other judges that included students and parents.  A well-balanced approach.

    What I noticed is that the ceremony of the graduation became increasingly less formal.  So much so that it began to feel like a mockery.  Aside from students dancing or romping, or strutting across the stage, the parents often were most out of control.  The "ceremony was so noisy on the occasion that no one could hear anything.  

    It got so bad that most educators I know couldn't wait for it all to end.  Is this what we want? I kept asking myself that question, with very little sense of outrage from some, and apathy from others.  Finally, I settled on a compromise.  I must accept that I'm essentially old school about all the screaming and strutting.  I decided to let that go in favor of some speeches of substance.  

In that area, we made some gains.  One year, when my district almost went bankrupt, and 19 teachers were laid off, one of the speakers said what everybody was thinking.  She delivered the most effective speech I've ever seen questioning the powers that be who allow budgets to be cut, dynamic young teachers to be let go, and the ineptitude of lawmakers to prevent these situations from re-occurring every year.  Of course, some of those same powers had edited her speech and removed some of the most controversial (in their view) content.  But...She went ahead and delivered her speech just the way it originally appeared.  She was right in the middle of her graduation.  What were they going to do?  She knew what speech would be delivered and had no intention of making any changes.  

    That's why I say it was bound to happen.  The school is a reflection of the community.  Nothing more, nothing less.  If the community has gun violence problems, those problems get invited to graduation too.  Somehow there is a great irony here.  Graduation is one of the closest institutions we have in this culture to a rite of passage.  It marks, in a formal way the passage from childhood to adulthood.  With the loss of decorum and the fear of violence, what are we saying about what matters and what can we expect for these newly minted adults?