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I foreseen it on a DC-10 by M Demarlo
I foreseen it on a DC-10
The DC-10 jumbo jet is the largest aircraft I have ever flown on, and it is huge... I am told the 747 is even larger with two floors. I think the 747 is mostly used for international travel. The DC-10 is more for domestic flights. Sure makes a person feel the modern age, technology always advancing. Its 1974 and I am on an airplane, a jet that travels over 400 mph. We just took off from San Francisco and will be landing in Houston in just a few hours.
I haven’t seen my dad in about two years, and I am a bit nervous. Every time I visit him he makes me get my hair cut short. Two years ago he had a fit with my hair coming over the tops of my ears, now it’s much longer. A short back and sides, tapered with an arch around my ears. I looked like I was in military school. I don’t care how mad he gets; I am not going to get my hair cut. I’m 17 years old now, and my hair is looking killer with it cut in layered shag.
My mom said she would talk to him, but no promises. The culture is totally different from Sam Francisco to Houston. Then on another note I want dad to be proud of me, and it is only hair. If I make a stand and defy my dad it won’t end well for me. I have butterflies in my stomach, especially looking at a few guys on this plane with really short haircuts and cowboy hats. If I fit that mold my dad would be so happy. It kind of excited me with a total change in appearance. I could easily be one of those guys, especially with my dad.
My ears are popping, we must be losing altitude. Sure enough the captain comes on the loud speakers asking for us all to fasten our seat belts. We are arriving at Houston’s Intercontinental Airport. Hobby airport is so much closer to Sugarland and Brazoria, that’s where dad lives. This jumbo jet is too large for Hobby airport though, runways probably are not long enough.
This non-stop red eye flight took only a little over three hours. With the two hour time difference it is only 9:45 AM. Captain says temp is 95 degrees already. Leaving the DC-10, walking through the jet way into the terminal I could see my dad, his eyes passed right past me. Walking up to him I said "Dad, didn’t you see me waving to you?" He shook my hand and gave me a quick hug. "I didn’t recognize you son" is all he said, silence walking to baggage claim and waiting for the luggage to start coming down the conveyor belt. He knew what my suitcase looked like because he snatched it up quick and started to walk fast toward parking. We got in his pick-up truck and I said "So what’s your problem? you haven’t said a word to me". I should never have asked him what his problem was because now he sure enough started telling me. He was shocked at my long hair, said I looked like a girl from the back. That If I was so bent on getting it cut down here in a barber shop I should have gotten it cut before I left San Francisco. "Ok dad, I’ll get it cut. Sorry you’re so ashamed of me that was not my intention to disgust you." Then he smiled and said we would stop and get my hair cut right now on the way home. And we got all the way to Brazoria about three blocks from his house when he slowed down and pointed out a small shack of a building that had a barber pole lit up in front. ""You can walk down here from the house. First change out of those bell bottom pants, you do have some pants that are not belled at the bottoms don’t you"?
I changed as he asked, he handed me some money and said "short and clean-cut, and not to disappoint him. Short ivy will make him proud he said.
There was nobody in the barbershop, just the barber. He got up out of his chair and shaking out the pin stripped cape he quickly was fastening tissue around my neck and adjusting cape. Pumping up the chair he asked "your dad making you cut it?’ "Ah, yes sir he is" Instead of just asking for a regular clean-cut haircut I told him my dad said a short ivy" Combing and lifting the long strands up he used barber shears and within less than a minute he snipped all the long locks off and was snipping it around my ears. Then I heard the distinct sound of powerful clippers firing up, and up the side of my head from my sideburn to my part he clipped firm and close to my skin. It was a #1 ½ , all the way up to my crown, then changed blades to a #1 and went over it again but not quite as high. Still wasn’t done because next came a 0.5 buzzing around my ears and nape. I said nothing, I could have stopped him but didn’t because I was aroused by the haircut in process. My god I was about to blow a load, and I did. Clipper over comb he was reducing the top of my hair and fringe shorter, shorter, to less than two inches in the very front and buzzed Princeton style tapering shorter to the crown. He put some waxy stuff in the front and combed it straight up off my forehead. Holding the comb he snipped that down flat. Snipped it again holding the comb flat and any hairs were uniformly snipped off at about an inch or so. Clippers buzzed the sides and back even closer. He gave me an H&T Crew cut flat on top. I wasn’t expecting such a brutally short haircut. My dad loved it and the haircut was repeated the following week. I thought I was going to be able to grow it out a little before going back, but no he would not allow it. What put the icing on the cake was my dad found a small bag of pot in my suitcase. I was to remain with him in Brazoria with a crew cut. All those hippies in San Francisco were a bad influence is what he told my mom. She just agreed with him. Apparently some kids that were my friends got busted breaking into some house and had drugs on them. So my mom agreed with my dad. So my life in Brazoria with a crew cut and a cowboy hat was my new look. I had seen this coming when I was on the DC-10.