It was called a crew cut, although I didn’t know why. I wasn’t a member of any crew that I was aware of, and hated how it felt. My parents did everything to persuade me, including the argument that the astronauts all wore their hair short so their helmets would fit better. I fell for it once, briefly forgetting that I wasn’t part of the space program, and didn’t even own a helmet.
For a long time, I thought my parents were saying “cruel cut,” which made a lot more sense, anyway. At the end of the school year, my father used to take me to the shop on the avenue, where Louie the Barber would run his clippers across my head with all the skill and care of a baboon performing cosmetic surgery. I was never sure if the place was a front for mob activity, or why Louie was constantly on the verge of violence. All I know is, the threats he whispered into my ear to get me to stop fidgeting in his chair would be front-page news today. But it was the early 1960s, and grown-ups back then could call kids all kinds of names and terrorize them with menacing words and gestures, and if we dared to complain, we were asked if we wanted a knuckle sandwich. I never quite made the connection between getting into trouble and simultaneously being invited to lunch, but my intuition, as undeveloped as it was, saved me on several occasions and I almost always politely declined the offer.
The crew cut, administered in June, would last the entire summer. I don’t remember what my objection was, but I do recall my mother consoling me with the promise that shorter hair would help me stay cool, and would dry quickly. It was difficult to understand how I would stay cool by giving the sun direct access to my skull, and the duration of the drying process was of no concern to me. But by then it was too late to argue because I knew hair couldn’t be reattached, and I also didn’t want a knuckle sandwich. Then in September, just when I was starting to look normal again, they took me back to the barber for a trim in time for the new school year.
Trim, of course, was a subjective term that allowed a great deal of leeway, and as a child I had no control over the barber’s interpretation of it. In addition, the quickest glance into the mirror might be seen as fidgeting, and so I attempted to sit dead still, all too aware of the straight razor being scraped down the back of my neck. It was a harrowing experience, especially because I suffered from a nervous twitch, a condition that grew more pronounced whenever a steel blade was brought within striking distance of a vital artery. Louie sharpened the razor on a flat leather strap that hung from the side of the chair, employing a rhythm oddly similar to the one used by the butcher across the street who slapped his knife against a rough metal rod before beginning to trim steaks from a huge slab of meat.
The barbershop was an unpleasant place, a square room whose floor was covered with faded green linoleum. As the result of a strange decision that I still can’t fathom, the tiles they chose had a design that looked like cut hair, so that the floor always appeared to need sweeping, no matter how often it was done. Tall jars filled with blue liquid and black combs sat on marble countertops. Old sports magazines, missing their covers, lay tossed on small tables. The air was heavy with cigarette smoke that hung around as if listening for gossip. Worst of all — and it’s hard to explain — the striped pole mounted on the back wall reminded me of the barbershop quartets I had seen on television. I didn’t like barbershop quartets, for the same inscrutable reason that I didn’t like clowns, parade floats, and the dead animals that were stuffed and mounted in displays at the Museum of Natural History. The image of four men abandoning their shears and breaking out into song confounded me. Plus, they were unnaturally happy and upbeat, and one of them always had a scary voice that seemed to be coming up from somewhere under the ground.
As if following the lead of hair stylists and meat cutters, lawmakers try to trim the budget, management looks to trim the staff, and the parents of brides would love to trim the guest list. The word clearly means to cut back, a concept reinforced on a long-ago night in early December when my mother and I walked five or six blocks to buy a Christmas tree, which we then dragged home in the snow. My father insisted we set up the silver aluminum version he had bought. Stuck at an impasse, we had two trees that year – upstairs, the metallic model illuminated by a rotating color wheel, and downstairs, the enormous spruce that, when stood upright, pressed against the ceiling with its top tilted to the side, much like my own twitchy head insisted on doing when I sat in the barber chair and struggled not to squirm. And so, adhering to trim in its most common form, my mother and I got a step-stool and a pair of scissors and we reduced the monster to a reasonable height and width. Throughout my childhood and well beyond it, I continued to think that trimming the tree involved shortening its branches.
Sometime later, my older brother got his first car, a bright green Chevrolet with two doors and power windows. He paid me a quarter to wash it on Fridays, urging me to give extra care to the shiny chrome trim. It took me a while to incorporate this new idea into my stubbornly analytical mind. Cars, I eventually understood, had trim, and so did houses.
In fact, according to the dictionary, the word can refer to the decoration or embellishment of almost anything. It’s used to describe the arrangement in a store window, and the ornamental fixtures on the building itself. It can suggest a stylish mode of dress or, curiously, a step in preparing animals for exhibition – either alive or stuffed.
The adjustment of sails and the placement of ballast and cargo, to give a boat the desired position in the water, is called trimming. In the same way, an airplane is said to be correctly trimmed when the forces affecting its flight are in balance. To trim is the act of heading toward a middle position in an argument in order to give the appearance of agreeing with both sides. When people lose a noticeable amount of weight, we say they’ve trimmed down. And when books are printed, their pages are cut to a final trim size.
In most applications, then, trim implies that something is free from the extraneous or unnecessary, and that its parts are in proper proportion. Yet – and here we go again – a feast is frequently advertised as having all the trimmings, which are side dishes and garnishes.
Somewhat less clear is the definition that says to trim someone is to chastise or swindle the person, or even to administer a beating. And of course, in a more familiar context, a trim is a light and quick haircut that doesn’t change the original style.
Sure. Try telling that to Louie. Without moving a muscle, I mean.
Diane Henders
December 6, 2012
Oddly enough, I share your tendency to twitch when sharp objects approach. And I love your line “cigarette smoke that hung around as if listening for gossip”.
After thirty years of bad experiences in hair salons, I’ve finally hit on the perfect solution. I cut my husband’s hair (a basic over-the-ears short haircut), and he cuts mine (a simple, straight line across the back). It’s a good way to ensure there are no latent hostilities lurking in our marriage. And we’re both very careful with the scissors. 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 7, 2012
If a decent haircut is all it takes to prevent latent hostilities, I’d say your marriage is in good shape, Diane. I don’t think there are too many women who would let their husbands anywhere near their hair with a pair of scissors.
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creatingreciprocity
December 6, 2012
Childhood is hard work. I still haven’t fully recovered from an entire childhood of reading stories where people were risking life and limb to recover ‘priceless’ treasure. It mystified me that they should take such risks for stuff that wasn’t worth anything. And then, as I was a girl, I lived in constant terror that the Virgin Mary was going to ‘appear’ to me. I was truly terrified that might happen, so I made sure never to be alone for too long (she seemed to like appearing to little girls when they were alone). I also had years of being convinced that witches were going to take me away while I slept. Eventually I made a plan so that I could get to sleep at night. Each night I slept with my arm wound up the back and down the sleeve of my sister’s pyjamas. That way if witches snatched me while I slept my sister was coming to their lair with me. Even as an adult I think that was a good plan. My sister (a year younger and much saner) was not impressed when she discovered my plan. I think being an adult is way easier. You can ask more questions and accept less and you’re taller – which makes it harder for witches to drag you to their lair and also adds to the bargaining power considerably – especially around hair cuts.
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bronxboy55
December 7, 2012
Being taller is a definite advantage. From the minute we’re born and all through childhood, the world was this big, mysterious place, and so much of it was up there where we couldn’t see what was going on. Your fear of witches in interesting. Have you written about it? I worried about bumping into the devil when I was alone.
Thanks for the comment, Trisha.
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wgutches
December 6, 2012
As I get older, there is less and less reason for a good “trim”. I do appreciate the blog and found it very interesting to read about the various definitions/meanings/uses for the word. I’d be willing to bet there are other uses as well, but probably ones I have forgotten about.
Thanx, bgbg
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bronxboy55
December 7, 2012
I just learned that there’s a TRIM command in computing, too. But it seemed boring, so I didn’t mention it. Also, I doubt I understand what it does.
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Arindam
December 8, 2012
I was about to mention that Sir Charles. In SQL, LTRIM: removes a set of characters from the left of a string and similarly RTRIM removes characters from right of a string. 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 10, 2012
Thanks, Arindam. But I don’t even know what SQL is.
Great news about your book — congratulations!
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Arindam
December 10, 2012
Thank you Sir Charles.
And talking about SQL, it is a computer programming language which is designed for managing and manipulating data in DBMS (relational database management systems). In Oracle, it is the set of statements with which all programs and users access data in an Oracle database.
As a computer engineering student, I studied long time back. I hope I still remember it correctly, as nowadays I do not have much to do with these database concepts or programming languages.
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Sandra Parsons
December 6, 2012
I knew you would not disappoint, Charles. I love this kind of musings, language can be both logical and absurd at the same time. Interestingly, in German, the word “trimmen” has a very similar story, up to the point where – as so often – a prefix creates a whole new meaning: “vertrimmen” translates as “to wallop someone”. Whoever came up with that.
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bronxboy55
December 7, 2012
The English version has the same unexpected meaning: to beat physically, as well as in competition such as chess. I frequently wonder how a word grows into a new meaning. Someone has to be the first to use it that way, but how do they then get enough other people to alter their own writing and speech so that the language itself is changed?
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morristownmemos by Ronnie Hammer
December 6, 2012
…and then came the long hair styles for men, of which no parent anywhere east of the Pecos approved. So when the guys all were feeling so hip, so cool in their long locks, the style careened back to crew cuts, or buzz cuts, as they call them now. Or even shaved heads, which never need any kind of trim. Styles to cause the older generation to feel obsolete.
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bronxboy55
December 7, 2012
I remember when the Beatles became popular in the US. All my parents could talk about was their hair. It’s funny to watch men’s hair — and especially boys — go from long to short and back again, something like skirt lengths for women. I know there are fashion people who control the styles of clothing, but how does the hair thing happen?
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marymtf
December 6, 2012
When I think of ‘cruel cut’ (or buzz cuts) I think sheep. Comb overs aren’t a look I’d like to see making a come back. And there’s nothing worse than a dead dread. Then there’s a basin cut. Be grateful it wasn’t the basin cut, Charles. PS. Are those braces hooked up to your trousers? That really does date you. 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 8, 2012
If braces are the same as suspenders, then yes, I think they are — although it looks as though I had one up and one down. I’m pretty sure that was the style back then, especially if you were out driving in your Flintstone-style sports car.
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icedteawithlemon
December 6, 2012
Only you could take something as seemingly mundane as the etymology of the word “trim” and turn it into yet another delightful post. Please tell me you are donating your brain to science. (And by the way, thank you for the jog down Memory Lane–I had completely forgotten about that rotating color wheel illuminating our little silver Christmas tree!)
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bronxboy55
December 8, 2012
In the history of Christmas celebrations, that color wheel idea had to have been a low point. I don’t think we used ours more than two or three times, at most.
Leave my brain to science? That sounds like another post. Thanks, Karen.
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Earth Ocean Sky Redux
December 6, 2012
The photo of you is such a fabulous time warp. The single strand tinsel on the tree. The giant radio in the niche that looks like it could bring in people on Mars. The plug-in Santa that probably moves and Ho-Ho-Ho’s. And what looks to be a full set of Encyclopedia on the shelves. The best, you had shoes with laces on, not velcro-close sneakers. What year was that? Love it.
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bronxboy55
December 8, 2012
I don’t know if that cord is coming from the Santa or the radio. And I still have some of those encyclopedias — the ones that say in the Index: “The World War.” It must have been 1958 or 1959.
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Bruce
December 7, 2012
This is great Charles. Just when I needed a smile to lighten my mood, you delivered. It’s all great. I love it. The baboon performing cosmetic surgery and the creepy singers with a voice from the ground; priceless. My requested ‘trims’ from the barber, as a school kid, were always the same; a short back and sides. Bruce
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bronxboy55
December 8, 2012
I’ve noticed the same thing, Bruce: no matter what the request, the haircut is always exactly the same.
Thanks for the comment.
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Lady from Manila
December 7, 2012
My parents would insist my sister and I get very short haircuts in our adolescent years. They’d beam afterwards and exclaim we’ve never looked prettier. Quite baffling as my sis and I did end up looking like delinquent boys. Now as a mom, I’m happiest when my son is sporting a “well-trimmed haircut.” Parents..
Knuckle sandwich. Sounds appetizing yet unnerving as a matter of fact. How could anyone have come up with that? 🙂
I could have clicked ‘Like’ thrice just for that photo of you with your toy car, Bb. Everything in there I find charming.
Btw, I’ll be sending you an email using a new address, buddy.
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bronxboy55
December 8, 2012
Maybe mothers and fathers see their kids’ hair as some sort of reflection of parenting skills — the longer the hair, the more unruly the child? I don’t know.
Knuckle sandwich. I’m not sure where that came from, either. Probably from some delinquent boy who needed a haircut.
Something is definitely up with my email. I get very few messages these days. I hope you’re well.
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Lady from Manila
December 8, 2012
Could be. 🙂 ‘Coz why would they want such a look for their daughters. I came to like the short cut anyway and kept it most of my teenage years.
Now it also makes me wonder about your son’s haircut. His hairstyle probably looks as cool as his Dad’s.
I’m done sending you an email, buddy. Kindly check your inbox when you’ve got time. I’m fine, thank you. I hope you and your family are doing great.
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TAE
December 7, 2012
Hello Charles!
I nominated you for a silly little blogging award; come check it out and accept!
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bronxboy55
December 9, 2012
I will, TAE. Thank you. I’m not sure I’ll do a post about it, but I appreciate the thought. By the way, I liked your latest post:
http://theabrasiveembrace.wordpress.com/2012/12/09/why-politicians-are-by-default-conservatives/
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TAE
December 9, 2012
Yeah, it’s a bit silly, but it’s a good way to reach out to the “community”.
Thanks! I have a couple more like this coming.
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writingfeemail
December 7, 2012
Hair – a sensitive subject. I had a cruel cut too – though not the crew cut – it was the pixie or the Shirley Temple or whatever one calls a curly headed girl with one inch spirals sticking out all over her head like tiny corkscrews. I’m blushing now at the memory. My poor mother just didn’t know what to do with my hair so she kept it cropped. Yikes! The worst thing possible and never – ever – again.
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bronxboy55
December 9, 2012
I would think a Shirley Temple haircut would involve curls. Isn’t a pixie haircut something completely different? And if so, why do I even know that?
Thank you, Renee. I join you in saying, “Never again.”
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Michelle Gillies
December 8, 2012
I do love the fun you have with your words. With so many meanings to so many words it is easy to see how people have trouble learning English. I wonder about other cultures and if they have these tricky words that can mean one thing or the exact opposite or something in between. Not being a linguist my only examples are “Aloha” and “Ciao”.
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bronxboy55
December 10, 2012
Michelle, I was just reading about the origin of ciao in a book about the Italian language. It’s a perfect example of how words and expressions develop in stages, over time.
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Ray Colon
December 8, 2012
Hi Charles,
I don’t remember my childhood visits to the barber shop in as much detail as you do, but I do recall how it always turned out — I hated it. The haircut was always too short and the itchiness of the cut hairs, that somehow managed to pass through the uncomfortable barrier of tissue and cloth that was snugly pinned around my neck, drove me crazy.
We were a silver tree with colored wheel household. I tried to carry on that tradition once I had a family of my own. I was resoundingly outvoted.
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bronxboy55
December 10, 2012
Your description of the cloth pinned around your neck reminded me that my barber used to put powder on my neck after he was finished cutting. Did you get that treatment, too? I think it was meant to soothe the skin, but for me it was just one more source of irritation.
About that color wheel: I think your family made the right choice.
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susielindau
December 9, 2012
I love the old Polaroid picture! While going through a bunch of photos this week for a post I wrote, I came upon a photo of my son getting a haircut for the first time. Luckily, he was patient and still. I love that photo. I encouraged him to let it grow long one summer in high school. I always felt like there was plenty of time for short hair. This is the difference between the 1960’s parent and one in the 2000’s! Now that he is in college he chooses a shorter hair cut.
Have you ever rebelled and grown it out?
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bronxboy55
December 11, 2012
When your son got his first haircut, did he sit on one of those padded boards that rested on the arms of the chair? The one at our barbershop was covered in red vinyl, and had long slits in it from years of use.
My hair was pretty long in the early ’70s, at least compared to the crew cuts, or the way it is now. But it doesn’t grow down, or out symmetrically. It shoots off in every possible direction, all at different lengths, so that it looks as though I got really frightened by something while standing next to a tornado. Do you know that look?
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susielindau
December 11, 2012
He did sit on a high booster seat. 🙂
I just got a really bad haircut. I know. Right before the holidays. I took a shower and went to bed with it wet. Oh… my… God… I woke up and it looked like I got into a fight with a weed whacker!
I should have taken a picture this morning, but I was too horrified… 🙂
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earthriderjudyberman
December 9, 2012
Getting a trim doesn’t sound like much fun, but you did manage to find several excellent ways the word is used.
This week, I had students look at “charging” and “fixed.” Both were in stories they’d read and I wanted them to understand the word in context. “Charging” could mean ‘running at someone,’ ‘insuring your battery had more juice when you needed it,’ and ‘swiping that credit card when at the mall.’ Understandably, I couldn’t share all the ways that “fixed” could be used: ‘a steady stare,’ ‘a game which the outcome is known before it begins,’ ‘repair something,’ etc.
English really is a fun language. Thanks, Charles, for helping us explore it.
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bronxboy55
December 11, 2012
Charging could also refer to someone being accused of a crime. And a charge could be a young person placed into the care of an adult. It just goes on and on, doesn’t it?
By the way, what grade do you teach?
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earthriderjudyberman
December 11, 2012
I teach 7th grade Language Arts. People usually give me the sign of the cross when I tell them this. 🙂
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bronxboy55
December 11, 2012
I understand their reaction, Judy. But at the same time, it was my 7th-grade English teacher who encouraged me to write. I have no doubt that you’re changing their lives for the better.
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earthriderjudyberman
December 11, 2012
I hope so. Thank you, Charles, for your encouraging words.
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rangewriter
December 10, 2012
Cruel cut! Great. A new insight into the fact that boys also hated what their parents did to their hair. In my case it was god-awful home permanents that looked like a precursor to the Afros of the next generation.
Thanks for another finely trimmed post, Charles.
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bronxboy55
December 11, 2012
There must be something about hair, Linda. How many movies have we seen in which a little girl is completely devastated because some cruel adult cut her hair? Maybe it’s the proximity to the head — it feels like a violation, although a relatively minor one.
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Barbara Rodgers
December 10, 2012
Cruel cut – the notion made me smile! I didn’t have any brothers but my dad used to wear a crew cut and I was secretly glad that he didn’t have any sons who would have been required to have the same cut. That was in the 1970s. My mother used to cut her own hair and my sister’s and mine, too. My sister got to have bangs and I didn’t – could never understand the reason why – apparently my sister looked better in bangs and I didn’t. So much baggage we all seem to carry over haircuts… Loved the humor and wordplay in this post, Charles!
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bronxboy55
December 12, 2012
I guess hair is one of the few parts of our bodies that we can actually change without much effort, and so we don’t want to let go of that little bit of control. But then, when we look back at pictures of ourselves from many years ago, isn’t it the hair that always makes us laugh?
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Patti Kuche
December 10, 2012
My mother lived and prayed rosaries that my brothers would keep their hair trimmed ie well away from the collars and not like those nasty hippy reactionaries, the Beatles, who were the undoing of family life as my mother knew it. But then Jesus always had long hair, so did God with his Kenny Rogers suave silver mane! Jesus and the disciples were the original hippies, with longer hair than any Beatle! It was all so confusing and I often wondered how anxious poor Mother Mary ever was, imploring Jesus to have his hair trimmed, just for her, because it was Christmas etc etc which would have made it his birthday and not Christmas . . . .
Great post Charles, so full of happy memories! Thank you, sort of!
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bronxboy55
December 12, 2012
George Washington had long hair, too — white and pointy at the sides. How did he get away with that?
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Priya Dubey Sah
December 11, 2012
I quite fancied a crew cut for myself as a teenager. And army boots. Thank Goodness I’ve grown out of the fancy!
You were a cute kid.
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bronxboy55
December 12, 2012
Thank goodness, is right. But now what about the red hair and green eyes?
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sybil
December 11, 2012
On the other hand there are crazy retirees who let their daughter cut their hair with dog clippers: http://crittersnus.blogspot.ca/2011/07/what-happens-when-retiree-gets-bored.html
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bronxboy55
December 17, 2012
At first, I thought that was a new post and you’d just done it. But then I noticed it was in July of 2011. That makes a little more sense. You’re still weird, but it makes a little more sense.
Merry Christmas, Sybil.
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Amiable Amiable
December 11, 2012
The nautical cartoon reminded me of many years of boating when AA Hubby was unhappy with my attempts at trimming the sails. ‘You want ’em trimmed, do you? Get me the big scissors,” I’d think to myself. (I’ve got to reference Moonstruck every chance I get.)
I love that Christmas photo, Charles! I’m pretty sure I’ve got one like it of my brother – maybe even AA Hubby. But I don’t have one of either of my boys. Imagine if they’d received a car that required them moving it with their own feet? They would have called Child Services on me.
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bronxboy55
December 17, 2012
Actually, AA, I’m pretty sure that car had pedals inside. It worked like a tricycle, and the front wheels turned. It was quite a thing.
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Stacie Chadwick
December 12, 2012
Sorry to be so late to the game with my comment, life has been a little hectic of late. Even when you discuss something as mundane as a hair trim, you make it three-dimensional and fun. =)
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bronxboy55
December 17, 2012
It’s always great to hear from you, Stacie, and it’s never too late. I hope you’re doing well, and life calms down a little as the holidays arrive (is that even possible?)
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Stacie Chadwick
December 17, 2012
Not until December 26. =/
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hipmamamedia
December 13, 2012
Charles – you never cease to amaze with your ability to take ordinary aspects of life and turn them into delightful essays! Loved this. Have you ever read George Carlin’s “Hair” poem?
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bronxboy55
December 17, 2012
I remember listening over and over to that Carlin routine on one of his comedy albums in my bedroom. Have you ever heard his later thoughts on “Saving the Planet”?
Thanks for the kind words, Maria. Let’s talk in the new year.
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dearrosie
December 20, 2012
I had a crew cut once – but women didn’t call it a crew cut -we called it the Mia Farrow look. In the late 1960’s there was the Twiggy Look, and soon after that Mia Farrow had a crew cut and we all copied her.
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bronxboy55
December 31, 2012
I remember both of those looks, Rosie. I wasn’t sure if Twiggy was still alive, but I guess she is:
http://www.twiggylawson.co.uk
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lostnchina
January 4, 2013
Doesn’t look like you have much of a crew cut there, Charles. From your vivid description I’d assumed you had only peach fuzz left on your head, and that your ears would look like an afterthought. But don’t go by my standards – my granddad used to cut his hair shorter than what they give you in prison.
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bronxboy55
January 4, 2013
The crew cuts didn’t start until I was in school, Susan. If I ever come across a picture, I’ll post it as evidence.
Your grandfather cut his own hair?
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lostnchina
January 4, 2013
Oh no. As a Chinese man from an older generation, my granddad always wanted to “have his money’s worth”, which meant having the hair on his head cut within 1/8″ of his life/scalp, so it would grow out slowly, saving him a few bucks.
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