Milo and Larry's Basement Barbershop

OK, so we whined more than a little bit.  We liked our hair a little shaggy.  This was before the Beatles and the Vietnam War protestors made HAIR so notorious they named a broadway musical after it.

Milo and Larry's Basement Barbershop was a monthly event at our house!  Dad's great friend from the Army, Larry Parker would bring his two boys, Daryl and Lyle over from Flint Street and we'd all line up for a trim!  By then we were involved with cub scouting--Dad was cubmaster, an assignment he loved for nearly 30 years.  Larry and Hazel were Den Dad and Den Mother and were the Guide Patrol Leaders (for 11 year old Scouts).

Dad had bought a little hand operated set of clippers in a little pine box where he kept his good conduct medal and a little plastic bottle of oil.  On the troop ship coming home, from WWII, Tech Sgt. Milo made enough money in tips from his fellow soldiers that he had enough saved for a downpayment on a  little one bedroom house in Roach Addition with a big knotty pine kitchen.  (Only in later years did I chuckle at who in the world would name it the  "Roach" addition, but that was the developer's real last name, honest!}

The homemade hair cuts project was a way to keep in touch with the Parkers and save barber money on four heads of Howe youngsters.  (I don't think Dad ever touched Carolyn's hair--but I wasn't sensitive to that beauty parlor ritual back in the day!)

The ritual was pretty standard.  Dad mounted a red and chrome kitchen stool on the well built wooden trunk with the galvanize metal top he'd built in 4H.  He had a cloth barber's cape he wrapped around each of us and fastened with a safety pin and the trimming began.  By the time I was old enough to pay attention, Dad had purchased a set of nifty electric clippers.   They made a loud buzzing noise as he chopped off sideburns with a little off the top.  It wasn't quite "Put a bowl on my head and lop off whatever showed under it"  But it was always too short--and we didn't express appreciation like we should.   

Dad and Larry took turns, trimming their own children, though I got the feeling that Dad had more experience than Brother Parker.  Besides, he was balding and a Phd candidate at the University of Wyoming in Wool science.  When he went abroad with his family for a doctorate at the University of Edinburough in Scotland and post doctoral work in Afganistan and Africa, I have no idea who cut his hair.

If I'd been smart, I would have learned that skill for my own son, but I couldn't get out  of Milo and Larry's Basement Barbershop fast enough.  Rosie cuts my hair nowadays and saves us $20 every time.  I cut my own beard and mustache, thanks!

The little kids thought it was really something to be "awarded" Dad's good conduct medal for sitting still during the haircut..  By the time I was drafted and earned a good conduct medal of my own, I was surprised to learn that a good conduct medal was awarded rather routinely to soldiers who had passed basic training.  Still, it was special in our house.  The first time I got a short short short cut to go through basic training looking like an escaped convict, I remembered the homegrown haircuts we got from a caring father.  At least he left a little bit to part with a comb!  JRH