Manhood/Macho/Swagger

As a kid, I learned and embellished my understanding of what it meant to be a man at the barbershop with my dad. Since forever, that is where real talk took place. Hard to get today unless of course, you still get your haircut by the same person you used to get your haircut by when you were a kid. As a kid, I lived with my mom and brother but my dad took me to get my haircut. That one act was enough to make him a Saint to me. I love him for that! Though I have countless other fond memories with my father, our days at the barbershop were the most well faded! From his car, to his home, to his gym, to the barbershop, everything and everyone I encountered while in the presence of my father seemed to affirm his principles. That he was a man. That he deserved respect. That he was a father. My dad was the shit! He had heart, and he taught my brother and I to have heart. At the barbershop my father was affirmed as a basketball player, worker, heterosexual, father, and most importantly, as a man with a no-nonsense love of his family, as well as his friends. Now bad shit happened at the barbershop as in the world too. When my barber lost two or three fingers on his cuttin' hand, we still went, because he and my dad were friends. Til this day, I think that JV (my childhood barber) may have lost his fingers to gambling gone way wrong. He told me, he was cutting tomatoes. I love him for that! When my older brother and father had arguments and both wound up at the barbershop at the same time, not just real talk, but real life happened at the barbershop. Grimy-ass reality. But the point of me writin this shit is that it breaks my heart when I see single black moms sittin in the barbershop waiting for their sons' heads to get cut.

I don't know if this is old news to many, I mean, Ice Cube did make a movie years about the Black Barbershop experience, maybe I am just late to recognize, but its my Spring Break and today is a good day, and its my mom's birthday and I think my dad (r.i.p.) is just trying to get me to call my mother ...(which I've already done by the way...this time for him though). I think my Dad always took me to the barbershop because he knew what it would mean for me now, as a Man, but also because he loved my mother. He was just like me, nuts over his woman, and would never permit his woman to hang out in the place where men hang loose. I don't care how metro sexual the world has become, some experiences are best when gendered. If I had a son, either I or his mother would cut his hair, but that's only cause we got a thing with body parts and pieces, but if I wasn't a reborn witchdoctor, and I was you, with a son, I'd make sure my sons father took his lil' ass to the barbershop!

And I know, I have already gone too far...but WOMEN...please remember this: NEVER meet a man in a barbershop! For real, where I come from, that makes you a hoe. Your man can be a barber, but you cant meet a man while waiting for your son to finish getting his haircut! Its gotta be a book that explains this rule of black people. LOL!!!! I get all bothered just thinking about it.

And finally, if you are a man, and your friend is father to a son, encourage him to take care of his son in general, possibly, by first suggesting he take his boy to get a cut, and hopefully, some swagger.