âYou need a haircut.â
That meant he could no longer see my scalp through my barely grown-out Boyâs Regular haircut. When we were in Dallas, (we lived in old Urbandale) they took me to a narrow little barbershop down on Grand Avenue. Indicative of the time, it had two barber chairs on the right and a line of red vinyl seats along the left-hand wall.
There was a coffee table full of magazines for their customers. True West, Real West, Life, Look, Popular Mechanics, Manâs Conquest, True Men and a variety of comics ranging from Archie to Sgt. Rock and even a Mad Magazine or two. The Old Man didnât care which ones I picked up while we waited our turn, but Mama made me stick to the comics for some strange reason.