5.10.06
ST: SA 08 Surprise Buzz - Michael G.
My first buzzcut was a haircut that I will never forget. It was totally unplanned, (by me anyhow) and I inadvertently aided in it being much shorter than even my parents had envisioned.
Last year, my older sister started beauty school, and my parents decided that it would be a good idea (and save money) if my brother and I helped her out by allowing her to cut our hair. My brother being 9 years old, didn't mind at all. I on the other hand, being 13, objected immediately. Objections or not, I was soon seated on a stool as my sister trimmed up the bowl cut that I had sported for several years. This went on for several months, and than came the summer that I will never forget.
Shortly after school ended, it was time for my brother and I to have our hair cut for the summer. For me that usually meant having the sides and back of my bowl cut buzzed a little closer, and the top trimmed up to the top of my ears. My parents ,however, had a different cut in mind. Over the last few weeks of school they had made no secret of the fact that my brother would be getting a crewcut for the summer. He wasn't thrilled with the idea, but there wasn't much he could do about it either. They also had been strongly suggesting that I think about getting one too. I thought about it for about five minutes and promptly decided against it. The subject was dropped, or so I thought. I would learn later that they had already told my sister that she was to give me a crewcut too.
As the end of school neared, two of my friends showed up with crewcuts. Although they looked pretty cool with their stubbly heads, I still didn't think that was the cut for me. Several other friends came to school on the last day with their bowlcuts freshly cut for the summer. They had the back and sides buzzed with a #0 attachment. As soon as I saw them, I knew that I had to have mine cut the same way. Unfortunately, as it turned out my #0 wouldn't be just the back and sides.
About a week after school closed, my parents announced that it was time for us to get haircuts. My brother, still not happy with the prospect of being bald for the summer, tried in vain to convince our parents that he should just get a trim, or at least be allowed to keep his hair a few days more. My parents would hear none of it. We were both getting haircuts tonight!
We waited in the kitchen and watched as my sister assembled the necessary tools, scissors, combs, stool, cape and of course the electric clippers with its array of blades. When she was ready, she pointed to my brother and said "OK, Your first, time to be a baldy." My brother protested again but the rebellion was quietly and quickly squashed by a look from our mother. Resigned to a crewcut that he didn't want, he slowly climbed on the stool. My sister wasted no time in throwing the sheet around him. She quickly picked up the clippers, which had been fitted with the #2 blade, and snapped them on. She placed her hand on his head to steady it, and as she moved the clippers toward his head announced "one baldy, coming up." My brother squirmed slightly and my sister told him to sit still. In seconds, she had passed the clippers down the center of his head, leaving a swath of 1/4" stubble where his blonde hair had been. "There's no turning back now," She announced as she continued to make pass after pass over his head. Each pass of the clippers cut away more of his blonde hair, leaving him with a stubble that was hard to tell was there despite it's 1/4" length.
As I sat watching the entire spectacle I quietly was laughing at my brothers misfortune, not knowing that I was to be next, and even balder than him. As my sister finished shearing my brother, he got his first look at his new haircut. I thought for a minute he was going to cry, but he managed to fight back tears as he thanked my sister for "such a nice haircut." He watched silently as my sister gathered up his hair from the floor, and dumped it in the trash. He started to leave the kitchen but my mother whispered something to him and he took the seat next to me again.
I reached over and rubbed the stubble on his head, "nice baldy," I said as I continued to rub. Just then my sister called for me. I wasted no time in taking my seat on the stool. I was going to look so cool with my sides and back buzzed to a #0. As my sister changed blades on the clipper I reminded her. "Remember, #0 on the sides and back and trim the top to the top of my ears. Without looking at me she told me she knew how I was getting my haircut. Ready to begin cutting, my sister showed me the blade on the clippers which, I could plainly see, was the #0. She snapped the clippers on and pushed my head to the right. Without warning she ran the clippers up the left side of my head, taking that side of my head down almost to the skin. She continued around the back, pushing my head forward, and than to the right side of my head, pushing my head to the left. With the sides and back clipped almost to the skin, it was time to trim the top. I was waiting for the clippers to stop, when she walked directly in front of me and began examining the sides of my head from the front. I moved, and she told me to hold still, that she was trying to make sure the sides were cut even. The clippers were poised directly in front of me, at the center of my forehead. In an instant, she placed her hand on my head to steady it, and pushed the clippers across the top of my head. In shock, I tried to move, but realized that would only make things worse.
I yelled "What are you doing?" "Oh No!", she said, with fake surprise, "I slipped". From behind me I heard my mother say "Well, guess you better shave the rest of it off." "Yea" agreed my brother, "Better make him a baldy too." My sister just smiled at me as she said "You wanted me to use the #0." "Yea", I agreed "But not on my whole head." My sister ignored my remarks and set to work shearing the rest of the hair from my head. I sat in silence as I watched great hunks of hair falling on the cape and floor. It only took four or five swipes with the clippers and she was done. Pulling the cape off me, I took a last look at all my hair as it lay on the floor. My sister handed me a mirror, and began to clean up the mess of hair. It took a few seconds before I could bring myself to look in the mirror. When I did, I was shocked at what I saw. The #0 had left me all but bald, and the shortness was exaggerated by my blonde stubble. I reached up to feel it and was surprised at how short it was.
My brother broke the silence when he suddenly rubbed my head and declared "nice baldy." After rubbing my head, he reached up and felt his own. He apparently liked the way mine felt better, because he turned to my sister and asked if she could make him bald like me. She looked at our mother who thought for a minute and said "Go ahead, if that's what you really want." In a split second, he was back on the stool and my sister was running the clippers with the #0 blade over his head. When he was done, he thought his head felt really cool.
When my friends first saw me with my newly shorn head, they laughed and called me baldy and cueball. However, over the next few weeks, something strange started to happen. Most of the kids who were calling me names started showing up with the same #0 buzz. That's when I realized that I must not look so bad with a #0 buzz after all.
My brother and I kept our #0's for the entire summer. We now both sport #2 buzzes, and I can't wait for the summer when I can get a #0 again.
Last year, my older sister started beauty school, and my parents decided that it would be a good idea (and save money) if my brother and I helped her out by allowing her to cut our hair. My brother being 9 years old, didn't mind at all. I on the other hand, being 13, objected immediately. Objections or not, I was soon seated on a stool as my sister trimmed up the bowl cut that I had sported for several years. This went on for several months, and than came the summer that I will never forget.
Shortly after school ended, it was time for my brother and I to have our hair cut for the summer. For me that usually meant having the sides and back of my bowl cut buzzed a little closer, and the top trimmed up to the top of my ears. My parents ,however, had a different cut in mind. Over the last few weeks of school they had made no secret of the fact that my brother would be getting a crewcut for the summer. He wasn't thrilled with the idea, but there wasn't much he could do about it either. They also had been strongly suggesting that I think about getting one too. I thought about it for about five minutes and promptly decided against it. The subject was dropped, or so I thought. I would learn later that they had already told my sister that she was to give me a crewcut too.
As the end of school neared, two of my friends showed up with crewcuts. Although they looked pretty cool with their stubbly heads, I still didn't think that was the cut for me. Several other friends came to school on the last day with their bowlcuts freshly cut for the summer. They had the back and sides buzzed with a #0 attachment. As soon as I saw them, I knew that I had to have mine cut the same way. Unfortunately, as it turned out my #0 wouldn't be just the back and sides.
About a week after school closed, my parents announced that it was time for us to get haircuts. My brother, still not happy with the prospect of being bald for the summer, tried in vain to convince our parents that he should just get a trim, or at least be allowed to keep his hair a few days more. My parents would hear none of it. We were both getting haircuts tonight!
We waited in the kitchen and watched as my sister assembled the necessary tools, scissors, combs, stool, cape and of course the electric clippers with its array of blades. When she was ready, she pointed to my brother and said "OK, Your first, time to be a baldy." My brother protested again but the rebellion was quietly and quickly squashed by a look from our mother. Resigned to a crewcut that he didn't want, he slowly climbed on the stool. My sister wasted no time in throwing the sheet around him. She quickly picked up the clippers, which had been fitted with the #2 blade, and snapped them on. She placed her hand on his head to steady it, and as she moved the clippers toward his head announced "one baldy, coming up." My brother squirmed slightly and my sister told him to sit still. In seconds, she had passed the clippers down the center of his head, leaving a swath of 1/4" stubble where his blonde hair had been. "There's no turning back now," She announced as she continued to make pass after pass over his head. Each pass of the clippers cut away more of his blonde hair, leaving him with a stubble that was hard to tell was there despite it's 1/4" length.
As I sat watching the entire spectacle I quietly was laughing at my brothers misfortune, not knowing that I was to be next, and even balder than him. As my sister finished shearing my brother, he got his first look at his new haircut. I thought for a minute he was going to cry, but he managed to fight back tears as he thanked my sister for "such a nice haircut." He watched silently as my sister gathered up his hair from the floor, and dumped it in the trash. He started to leave the kitchen but my mother whispered something to him and he took the seat next to me again.
I reached over and rubbed the stubble on his head, "nice baldy," I said as I continued to rub. Just then my sister called for me. I wasted no time in taking my seat on the stool. I was going to look so cool with my sides and back buzzed to a #0. As my sister changed blades on the clipper I reminded her. "Remember, #0 on the sides and back and trim the top to the top of my ears. Without looking at me she told me she knew how I was getting my haircut. Ready to begin cutting, my sister showed me the blade on the clippers which, I could plainly see, was the #0. She snapped the clippers on and pushed my head to the right. Without warning she ran the clippers up the left side of my head, taking that side of my head down almost to the skin. She continued around the back, pushing my head forward, and than to the right side of my head, pushing my head to the left. With the sides and back clipped almost to the skin, it was time to trim the top. I was waiting for the clippers to stop, when she walked directly in front of me and began examining the sides of my head from the front. I moved, and she told me to hold still, that she was trying to make sure the sides were cut even. The clippers were poised directly in front of me, at the center of my forehead. In an instant, she placed her hand on my head to steady it, and pushed the clippers across the top of my head. In shock, I tried to move, but realized that would only make things worse.
I yelled "What are you doing?" "Oh No!", she said, with fake surprise, "I slipped". From behind me I heard my mother say "Well, guess you better shave the rest of it off." "Yea" agreed my brother, "Better make him a baldy too." My sister just smiled at me as she said "You wanted me to use the #0." "Yea", I agreed "But not on my whole head." My sister ignored my remarks and set to work shearing the rest of the hair from my head. I sat in silence as I watched great hunks of hair falling on the cape and floor. It only took four or five swipes with the clippers and she was done. Pulling the cape off me, I took a last look at all my hair as it lay on the floor. My sister handed me a mirror, and began to clean up the mess of hair. It took a few seconds before I could bring myself to look in the mirror. When I did, I was shocked at what I saw. The #0 had left me all but bald, and the shortness was exaggerated by my blonde stubble. I reached up to feel it and was surprised at how short it was.
My brother broke the silence when he suddenly rubbed my head and declared "nice baldy." After rubbing my head, he reached up and felt his own. He apparently liked the way mine felt better, because he turned to my sister and asked if she could make him bald like me. She looked at our mother who thought for a minute and said "Go ahead, if that's what you really want." In a split second, he was back on the stool and my sister was running the clippers with the #0 blade over his head. When he was done, he thought his head felt really cool.
When my friends first saw me with my newly shorn head, they laughed and called me baldy and cueball. However, over the next few weeks, something strange started to happen. Most of the kids who were calling me names started showing up with the same #0 buzz. That's when I realized that I must not look so bad with a #0 buzz after all.
My brother and I kept our #0's for the entire summer. We now both sport #2 buzzes, and I can't wait for the summer when I can get a #0 again.
Labels: SA
# posted @ 12:08 pm 
