The American Barber… a dying breed

By on December 10, 2014
American Barber

You know what makes me sick?  You know what makes me so mad – I just wanna trim my nose-hairs… with a weed-whacker?

Today we’re not here to belly-ache or complain.  Today – I want to sing the praises of a true American.  A man’s man… and true hero in every town, hamlet, village and city in this country.

Today – let’s take a minute and thank – the barber.

And I’m not talking about those prissy-pants hair salon boys – I’m talking about an honest to goodness, wrap some toilet paper around your neck and start mowing – barber.  I’m talking about the kind of guy what will stand eight hours on his feet six days a week – shaving the old man wire off the edges of your ears… all the while he’s telling you the filthiest jokes this side of a biker bar.

I’m talking about the kind of guy that give some air-head idiot kid a buzz-cut in a minute flat… and then take a whole half-hour making some old boy’s comb-over look just perfect.

The barber is the only guy in town that has the whole skinny on who’s hiring and who’s laying off.  He can talk muscle cars, high school sports, church gossip and town politics.  If you hear a bunch of sirens in the middle of the night and don’t know what happened – wake up the next morning – and go get a haircut.

And for a real man – these is no more comfortable place on this earth – than a real barbershop.  Big comfortable chairs up against the wall… a TV up near the ceiling that only gets four channels.  You got farmers and truckers in there – shooting the breeze.  It’s like a man cave – for actual men.

And the best part is when you get in the chair.  Because the barber doesn’t even ask what you want.  Because he already knows what you need.  Just lower the ears.

Wake up,  America!!!   Sadly – the American barber is like the buffalo – a vanishing breed.  But mark my words – the day the last American barber leaves this world – is the day I start a pony-tail.   I’m Earl Pitts, American.  Check out my YouTube Channel at Earl Pitts – by Earl Pitts.  And Pitts off.

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