Today I went to the local barbershop to get my ears lowered. Castro’s. Busy place, music blasting, barbers waiting outside on the steps for a customer. Everyone laughing.
During my travels, I’ve always sought out barbershops. Along with taxis, it’s a free language lesson. Plus, you get the lay of the land pretty quickly. But the main reason I have gone to barbershops is community.
During my lifetime, I’ve seen the actual, practical idea of community dry up. It’s now all online. George down the road posted this. Julie added a photo to her Instagram. Virtual yadda yadda. But this is faux community.
We don’t meet outside and spend time just shooting the breeze. We don’t “meet” much anymore, especially our kids. We send our kids to “classes”, “activities. There is no time for the informal - which community truly is. No longer do folks stand outside, sit outside in the evening, chatting, taking in the comings and goings. No. It’s Netflix or work at the computer. Or for kids - video gaming.
A friend of mine is far along in her pregnancy. First child. She is looking to learn about breastfeeding. I said, "Why not ask Jenny - she has had 5 kids. She’d be perfect.” My friend (hope she isn’t reading) looked mortified. She replied that she couldn’t do that - she was hoping to hire someone (at 100s of dollars an hour). You see how community erodes? We don’t meet, we don’t encounter, help, relate to each other anymore. It’s all farmed out.
Yes, the world changes. But I think we are missing something in our lives, something very human. I find this in barbershops these days.
A couple of stories.
First story. I lived in Riverdale, Toronto, on the edge of Greektown. I’d walk home from work and pass by a West Indian barbershop. It even had a little window at the side where the owner’s mother sold her amazing goat jerky. I started picking up that jerky often. Then, just laughing with the mother. Finally, I was spending a good 30 minutes or more just hanging out in the barbershop with all the others - guys, gals, laughing, loving, living - being a community.
Second story. Just a couple of years ago, just before the Covid stuff, I made a rushed trip to Denver. Great city! However, I didn’t do my homework and ended up in a hotel from hell (but it was a Ramada). Read the horror reviews. The worst hotel ever.
But my story - I got in late, woke up early for a busy day. Went to shave my 3 days of growth and I didn’t have a razor. The front desk didn’t either. Oh well, I’ll go for a run, wake up and find a convenience store. Not much open on Colfax, just tripped over a lot of homeless. Two shops, no razors. I consigned myself to having to look disheveled.
On my walk to downtown and meetings, I passed by a barbershop. The sign said “Closed” but I saw an older guy with his broom inside. So I knocked. The old Greek guy came to the door and opened it. I explained my situation. He said, “I haven’t done shaving for years, sorry”. I left. But 15 or 30 seconds later, I heard a yell. He was waving me back. He said, “I can’t let you go to work looking like that!”. “Come in, I think I have an old electric razor that might do the trick.”
He found it, bottom drawer, tangled up with lots of other junk. But it worked! He even gave me the hot towel treatment. After, I asked how much. He said, “nothing”, “just happy to help a traveler”. I forced a bill into his hand and said, “Here, this is for me, not you.” I fondly remember that old Greek guy. God bless.
These stories illustrate barbershops as one of the few last vestiges of community - where people meet as people and decency reigns. It’s so rare these days.
So - go by barbershops. You’ll be much better for it!
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
A poem written right now - inspired by Leonard Cohen’s fine one …
Go by barbershops, people.
Not even to cut your hair.
Go by barbershops,
I will pass there.
Sit in a chair, laugh.
Sing a happy song.
Go by barbershops,
I won’t be long.
Go by barbershops
where people meet.
Barbershops,
I won’t repeat.