[caption id="attachment_421" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Goo goo ga joob"]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/DSC_0047.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-421" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/DSC_0047-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

Oh, dear Lord, my head totally looks like an egg.

I did something today I haven't done in nearly 40 years. I went to a barber shop.

I can't even remember when I stopped. I know in the '70s, unisex hair salons started popping up, and instead of looking for a barber pole, I started getting my haircuts at places called Hair Factory or similar names.

I spent a lot of money on haircuts over the years, mostly because I was never happy with the way my hair looked. Finally a couple of years ago I decided it was silly to keep worrying about it, so I made a decision. Once or twice a year, I go in and essentially have all my hair cut off.

Then I let it grow till it starts to annoy me and I repeat the process. Until recently I was getting buzz cuts with the second-shortest clippers, but with my two most recent cuts -- including the one today -- I've gone for the Full Monty.

Actually, that's an exaggeration. I suppose the Full Monty would be to have my head shaved, but the problem there is that when white guys have their heads shaved, they don't look cool like Michael Jordan.

We look like Mister Clean.

Actually, the picture here makes me look a little like one of those guys with connecting sideburns and mustache, but if you look more closely, you'll see that it really is a beard. It's just that the hair on my chinny chin chin is basically white.

The part of today I enjoyed was going to a real barber shop, complete with candy cane pole. It's only open four days a week, and the guy who owns the shop is the only person working there. He was probably a little older than I am, and it was really fun to talk with him about the old days before young girls <em>styled</em> men's hair, rather than just cutting it.

Back in the day, my grandfather used to take me to his barber shop, where his favorite barber -- whose name I remember was Harvey -- used to give me buzz cuts. That was pretty much the way I wore my hair until I was 13.

Somehow, though, things were different then.

I swear my head didn't look like an egg when I was a kid.