Museum Haircuts Start A Trend by Deke Cutter

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“Danny," my father opined, “the only way this can work is if you were to stay with your grandfather while you do this internship." New York is just too expensive. and I don’t want you living in some unsafe place." I had just finished my second year at college and had secured this internship that had a small salary at one of best museums in the world. I knew my dad was right. I was lucky to get into a program at a state university in our home state, so tuition was more affordable, and they were helping with the cost, but summer rent and board was not in our plans.


“Dad, it’s not that I don’t love grandpa, you know I do. I’m just not sure we can live together. Since Grammy died, he has nobody to reign him in." My grandfather is a wonderful man, and he is the soul of kindness and generosity. He just has some set ideas, as do I. The museum world is pretty accepting of people, as they come. I come with my frizzy hair in a ponytail for work and a basic wardrobe of jeans and Chuck Taylors with some funky shirts, unless I’m going to be out in public. Grandpa, on the other hand, is the kind of person who is meticulous about all things, including how he looks. Dad says it is a good trait and he thinks I have done so well in my chosen area of study because I have that same focus on detail when it comes to my studies and in understanding the whole process of curating, restoring and maintaining objects.


“Son, it will be for a few weeks short of three months. I’ve spent a lot of time with my dad since my mother died and he is a lot more mellow. He will love having you around the house and he may try to persuade you to his way of thinking, he will leave it to you to decide. Just be kind because you know he will be very kind to you."


I drove in to see my grandfather in the old neighborhood in Brooklyn, NY, where he still lived. It still retained the ethnic flavor of the old days with many families having passed their homes down to sons and daughters over the years. In our family’s case, my dad and his two siblings, my aunt and uncle, both had decided to move out to more suburban pastures. That left grandpa, now alone, in a big old house, with a nice backyard to take care of. He was waiting for me when I arrived, grandpa had the garage door open for me to put my car in next to his. His house was wide enough for a two car garage downstairs. Being the kind of guy he was, the garage door was “burglar proof," as was the door from the garage into the house. There were several second and third generation cop and firefighter families on the block, though, so crime was not much of a problem. “So, Danny, your dad tells me that you were able to get that internship you wanted for the summer."


“Yeah Pops, and I am here to ask you a big favor. It will be too expensive for me to rent an apartment in the city for the summer. Do you think I could stay with you. Dad thought maybe I could help you around the house and do what I can in the backyard and garden. I’m not getting paid much, but I can put some money toward groceries too."


“Danny don’t be so crazy. Of course, you can stay with me." Grandpa carefully looked me over from head to toe and said, “all I will ask is that you carry out certain requests from time to time. They won’t interfere with your job, but they may take up some small amounts of your free time. I may want you to accompany me from time to time, do you think that is an acceptable arrangement?"


“Sure thing Pops. Thanks so much."


When the semester ended, I spent a few days at home catching up with my folks and seeing local friends. My mom had suggested I get my hair trimmed and offered to buy me some more “business casual" trousers and shirts, but I was 20 years old, I knew what was best. So, I put my stuff in the car and dad dropped me at the train station. I would take the subway from the city to my grandfather’s house and my folks would bring anything else I needed in a few weeks.



“Pops," I called, when I arrived, using my dad’s key to open the front door.


“I’m in the kitchen, Danny." My grandfather was putting the finishing touches on a big pot of tomato sauce and leaving it to simmer, just like Grammy used to do. “"Go put your bags up in your room and freshen up from your trip if you would like."


I did as he suggested, putting most of my stuff in the big dresser before hanging my suit and a couple of dress shirts in the large closet. I noticed several new-looking pairs of “Docker" style trousers and some short and long sleeve shirts that said “business casual" to me. My first thought was that my cousin Tim, Aunt Mary Ann’s son must have left some stuff here. He is an accountant and helps gramps and some of his friends with tax matters. After I washed up, I went downstairs.


Grandpa said, “I hope you don’t mind, I picked up a few pairs of trousers and shirts for you. I went over to the museum and noticed how the staff dressed. Jimmy Meldrew is an old friend, and he gave me a bit of a behind the scenes tour. Don’t worry, nobody knows we are related." Dr. James Meldrew, PhD happens to be the former Director of Collections at the museum and an international expert on curating and presentation of items from early contact between pre-Columbian and European cultures in the Americas. These kinds of “little surprises" are often dropped by grandpa.


“Oh, er, um, thanks Pops, that was not necessary. I thought I would just go with my own sort of style vibe. But if you and Dr. Meldrew see that this is a wiser approach., then…"


“That’s my boy, now, while we are the subject, let’s have a cup of coffee and a biscotti I want this sauce to simmer for another 20 minutes, then I’ll want you to accompany me and carry out my first request in lieu of rent." After the heat was turned off under the sauce and the house was secured, I started heading toward the steps down to the garage. Grandpa said, this trip is on foot, let’s go out the front door." We walked down the front steps and turned right. I was amazed how fit and spry my grandfather was at 67 years old. We walked through the clean streets past well-maintained homes and small apartment buildings. We came to an area of small neighborhood shops that I remembered well. Italian deli, an Italian bakery, a hardware store, and a barber shop. I knew immediately where we were going, and that grandpa had probably had this planned since I came to see him at Easter break from school. “Shall we go in and say hello to Mario?"


“Hey Giorgio," back so soon, I only cut your hair last week. And, no, this can’t be little Danny, your Tom’s son, “Mannagia, where do the years go? I was just taking over for pop, when Tom was getting married and now Danny is all grown up!"


“Hello Mario, yes, this is my grandson, Danny. He is staying with me for the summer. He starts a summer job at the museum where my old pal Jimmy Meldrew used to work on Monday. I’m treating him to a nice, what do they say on those shows “makeover." A good haircut will make the commuting cooler and a nice clean-cut look will make a great first impression."


With my father’s words of advice in my head, I greeted Mario and with wobbly legs approached the chair I had last sat in when I was about 3 years old, when Mario had put the booster seat down and made a big fuss over me. I had a feeling I was about to lose a great deal of hair.


Mario caped me up, put the strip around my neck and removed the rubber bands from my ponytail. Mario began combing my hair out. “My goodness, your hair is so tightly waved, Danny! In the summer heat and humidity in the city, this would be a real bother to deal with every day." Mario touched my head with both hands, feeling its shape. “Giorgio, I know exactly the haircut that will suit Danny perfectly." He took out his phone and opened the gallery function and looked through it until he found the set of pictures he wanted. The two men agreed.


I looked over at Pops and said, “I take it I don’t get to see." He just smiled and shook his head.


“OK Danny, just relax," Mario said. With that said, he took his long comb, made a part in the left side of my hair, and carefully combed the hair over. Then, he picked up his shears and began cutting the hair on the sides to just above the ears and off the collar to the bottom of the natural hair line. He combed the hair on top all forward and cut the hair that hung down to my nose to a level just above my eyes. “Now that I have got rid of some that length, I can really get to work," Mario exclaimed, as he replaced the shears with a sturdy looking pair of electric clippers. He began running the clippers from the bottom of my tragically ungroomed sideburns up to about an inch and a half below the new part he had established earlier. I sat in silence, absorbing the sounds, the sensations, the incredible look of loving empathy on Pop’s face whenever I caught his eye. I found myself enjoying the sound of the singers, old and new, who Mario played in the shop: Dean Martin, Michael Bublé, Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormé (Grammy loved them), Dionne Warwick, Sinatra. It was like a museum of sound. As I was lost in the music, Mario continued to create a classic taper on the sides and back of my head. I don’t think I even realize that Mario was gently manipulating my head’s position as needed. In the back, the taper was not one at all like the very high fades that young men often wear, but the more traditional taper, leaving some hair, rather than skin or brutally short stubble. The taper extended to the natural hair line so that it did not look as unkempt between haircuts.


At this point, with only the long hair left on top, I was reminded of the saying I had once heard a Southern U.S. Senator use on TV that a particular bill’s approach was like “getting half a haircut. But Mario was not one to waste time. He quickly sprayed the long hair and combed a section behind the bangs up and sheared about half of the length that remained off. This was the guide he used as he repeated the raising and cutting across the top and upper portions of the right side of my head. The hair that remained on top, at this point, was long enough to cover the top of my head and meet the hair on the right side. I’m lucky not to have a problem with cowlicks or double swirls. Mario was able to ensure that the hair above the taper in the back, when he was finished, would blend well.



Mario now stopped and stood in front of me and looked carefully at met. He ran his hands lightly over the hair on the top of my head, patted it softly and shook his head. He picked up his water sprayer again and sprayed the top. Then he picked up a razor with jagged “teeth on either side of the blade and began lifting sections of hair and using this razor tool to thin out the hair. This was a technique that had once been very popular with executives who wanted a very smooth looking finish but did not want their hair to be completely flat against their scalp. In the case of guys like me with extremely wavey hair, it also helped to tame the waves and get them to lay in a more relaxed way that made a man look what used to be referred to as “professional. This part of the haircut took some time, but I was remarkably undisturbed by it. In fact, I had resigned myself “to my fate." Finally, Mario seemed satisfied, and he said, “OK, now a little shaving cream around the edges, a little product in the hair, and we will be finished."


Mario loosened the cape, removed the strip, and dusted me down. I heard the hot lather machine whirring and soon found the warm cream being applied to the areas around my ears and on the back of my neck. With a very gentle touch, the cream was scraped away, and the remnants of my long sideburns went with them. Mario wiped the excess away, washed and dried his hands, and then chose a surprisingly high-end pomade. He took about half a dime sized amount, rubbed it in his hands and then worked it into my hair. My hair was then neatly combed to the side.


I looked over at my grandfather just before Mario turned the chair to face the mirror and saw the biggest smile I had seen on the older man’s face since before Grammy died. When Mario finished turning the chair and removed the cape, he said, “Danny, I know it is a big change, I hope you like it."


For what seemed like a minute, but was probably only ten seconds, I was literally speechless. Then I said, “Mario, is that me? Pops, I look so different. That guy, he looks older, smarter. He looks like he knows what he’s doing. I, (deep breath), I like this guy."


When we got home, Pops and I sat down and he said to me, “OK kiddo, it’s just the two of us now. Tell me the truth, do you really like this haircut. Be honest with me."

“Pops, I was scared when we got there, but I had been looking at that family picture on the dresser in my room, from when we were all together for that big party we had when Tim graduated college and I graduated High School and little Julie made her Confirmation. You know that verse that Grammy put on the bottom of the picture:
First, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.
Next, You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’
Well, I don’t know why, but I just remembered that when I sat down in that barber chair, and I knew that you would never ask me to do something that you thought would be bad for me. And the next thing I knew, was lost in all that music Mario plays in there and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I knew this was the right thing for me for this internship. So, thanks, Pops."

The following Monday, I started the internship. I dressed in the new clothes my grandfather had bought me. My hair was carefully combed with a little bit of the product that Pops had bought for me on the way out of the barbershop. I loved the job, and I was surprised that people seemed to be impressed with me, not only for my knowledge and positive attitude, but for the way I was groomed. Each day, I was given a part of the museum to “study" and take notes about, then I would meet with my mentor and discuss what I thought about it. I was quite surprised that my ideas were taken seriously, and that my mentor brought me to a meeting with Grace Masters, the Curator of the Eastern Seaboard Colonial Collection. She complimented me and said that they had a group of students from France coming next week and she wanted me to be one of the museum’s team to guide them. I would be informed of the time of a team meeting the next day.

When I arrived, I found that there were three permanent staff members and three other summer interns, two young women and one other young man. The young man was dressed pretty much like I had planned to dress, and his hair was in kind of a grown-out mullet style. The permanent staff described the visitors as being from one of the elite schools in France and explained that it was very important that the museum’s representatives made a good impression. One of them said to me, “Grace mentioned that she thought you were the perfect example of the grooming and manners she thought would be appropriate for a young male staff member meeting this French delegation."

When the meeting was breaking up the other male intern, Kyle, stopped me and said, “I’ve been wanting to meet you. My mentor warned me that he had to really go to bat to get me included in this ‘guide gig’ because of my ‘unconventional appearance.’ I thought he just meant my earring. He had told me when I started that he didn’t care how I dressed or wore my hair, but that I needed to be prepared to raise my game for “working with the public." Today he said that I would need to do more if I wanted this assignment. Apparently, the French museum authorities will get a report back on us and it could help us later in our careers and sh*t."
I listened, silently thanking Pops. I replied, “Kyle, I had hair longer than yours and had plans to dress like you for this internship, but I got some good advice before I started. We still have a few days, it’s up to you. The clothes are not a big deal. If you don’t have these kinds of things in your closet, I can loan you something, if money is tight. The haircut may be a big deal for you. My hair wasn’t this short since I was about three! But it turns out to be great for the summer heat and commuting on the subway every day."

“Thanks for the advice, Danny and your generosity. I have the threads. My mother insisted on buying them for me and made sure I had them in my suitcase. I’m staying in my cousin’s apartment. She’s from the rich branch of the family. She goes to Columbia University and is on a summer course in Europe. Do you think you can hook me up with your barber? In for a dime, in for a dollar, I guess. Do you have a girlfriend, I’m not being nosey or hitting on you. Mine is going to freak out when I tell her I cut my hair."

“I’m planning on getting my haircut tomorrow, so I’ll look good for the French. My hair gets gnarly very quickly when it grows out. Here’s a ‘before’ picture of me." I showed a picture on my phone to Kyle and we both laughed. “I broke up with a girl just before finals. She didn’t like the fact that I couldn’t party away the summer this year. She has a job waiting for her in her daddy’s company when she graduates. But, anyway, if you and this girl are serious, I’m sure a haircut won’t mess with your relationship. My barber’s name is Mario. Here’s his address. I’m going to get there pretty early tomorrow because my grandfather says he gets busy on Saturdays. I’m staying with my “Pops," and this guy and his father before him have cut my family’s hair for three generations."


The next morning, I was up early and begged Pop’s forgiveness for getting out early and promised to help with any chores later. “I want to get over to Mario’s for my haircut before he gets too busy. We have that delegation of French students next week and I want to look sharp. I think that guy Kyle will meet me there to get his hair cut too. Do you want to come, Pops? I thought maybe we could stop by Golden’s Deli after my haircut and treat ourselves to a noodle kugel. Are they still using Mama Golden’s recipe?"

“Not only are they using it, but bless her heart, old Mrs. Golden still comes downstairs some days and ‘supervises’. Her daughter Carol who Grammy and I went to school with, and her husband Jake run things now, but the food is as good as ever. They are getting ready to turn things over to the next generation, though, her niece and their son opened a second deli out in Merrick. As soon as Carol’s grandson finishes his degree in catering, he takes that store over and they are coming back to Brooklyn so Carol and her husband can finally retire. Why don’t you go ahead and call me when you are ready, and I’ll meet you at Golden’s."

I arrived just as Mario was opening the pull-down security door at the front of shop. “Well, Matthew, I wondered if I would be seeing you soon. Come in."


“Good morning, Mario", I said, shaking the barber proffered hand. “Sir, this haircut has been a real blessing to me. I’m thinking that if I can find a barber up at a school who is nearly as talented as you are, I may keep my hair like this. If not, maybe just a simple crewcut would do the trick. I can’t believe how much my grandfather’s wisdom is rubbing off on me."

“I am so happy you like the haircut, Mario said, as he began cutting my hair for the second time. Sometimes young men prefer to ‘let their freak flags fly’, until they are out of school and beyond. But when you have so much to offer in looks and personality, why hide your light under a bushel?" Geez, I am really on fire this morning, quoting Crosby Stills and Nash and the Holy Bible in one ‘go’! Remind me of where you go to school, we barbers have a strong network. Before you go back, I’m sure I can find out the best barbers in your college town."

“Another one of the interns from the museum may come in today", I told Mario. “One of our bosses used me as an example of how she expected us to look and dress when we give a museum tour next week to some French college students who are well-connected at home. You’ll see, he’s got a lot of hair to work with too." Just then the bell rang announcing Kyle’s arrival. He was neatly shaven and dressed in new looking jeans and a button-down short-sleeve shirt.

“Kyle," I exclaimed," I was just telling Mario that you might be a new customer."

Kyle’s face reddened slightly, and he replied, “morning Danny, how do you do Mario." Mario put down the clippers and went over and shook Kyle’s hand and invited him to sit down. He then washed his own hands and went back to work on me. Kyle watched closely, his eyes popping as Mario took out the razor to thin out the regrowth on top of my head and carefully reshaped the outline of the classic taper around my ears and neck."

“OK Danny, much quicker this time, eh? That is another benefit of this haircut. Does it look O.K.?"

“It looks perfect Mario, and this time, I am not so stunned that I can’t speak. Thank you."

I followed Mario over to the cash register and paid him and then Mario quickly wiped down the chair and swept the area around it. “Kyle, come on up." Kyle approached the chair seemingly confident; I thought that Kyle’s girlfriend must have given her support. “I understand that you are interested in a haircut that gives a more professional look, is that correct?"

“To be blunt, sir, I need to look as clean cut as Danny looks, without looking like his clone. I’ve had long hair for quite a few years, and I am willing to try whatever you think will work well with my hair and face."

“Let me just get a feel for your head," Mario said, as he gently felt Kyle cranial structure. Then he looked at Kyle’s face. He combed Kyle’s hair over and pushed it back and to the sides. Then he got out his phone and showed him a picture. This is what I would like to do, the sides will be tapered like Danny’s, but because your hair is straight and easier to manage, we will leave the front a bit longer with a slight quiff in the front, but it will be natural looking, with a softer gel kind of product, I suggest." Kyle now seemed stunned, he nodded his agreement and Mario went to work.

Mario used his clipper and comb to remove Kyle’s mullet and to raise the hair on the side to middle ear level. He then went to work on the taper for Kyle’s sides and back. Kyle watched as has dark blonde hair became shorter. He said to me, “my girlfriend told me to do what I needed to do and that she appreciated me letting her know." Mario continued his work, as Kyle and I spoke, switching clipper blades as necessary to perfect the taper.

“I’m glad that she is supporting you, Kyle," Isaid, “and now I’ll have all the French girls to myself." All three of us laughed at this.

Mario had switched now to wetting down Kyle’s hair and a great deal of the long hair that had graced the top of his head was falling onto his lap in pieces that were as much as five inches long. Kyle was starting to feel a bit worried, but tried to keep his tone light, “wow, that is a lot of hair."

I quickly replied, “it’s supposed to hit the mid-90s next week. You will not miss it then! And I can’t tell you how much less of a hassle showering and washing my hair is now!"

Mario was now reducing Kyle’s bangs from nearly 10 inches to somewhere around four. He then decided that while Kyle’s hair was not in need of serious thinning, it did need a quick run through with the thinning shears. And so, as Kyle stared at his shorted bangs, Mario knocked along Kyle’s head and bangs, taking a bit of bulk out. He then went through the routine, now familiar to me, of warm shaving cream, straight razon, and the final styling.

Kyle looked in the mirror and, as I had done, saw a different young man. His facial features stood out, his ears which were not prominent, could be seen, his sideburns were squared off just above the opening of the ear. The sides lay flat against his head, but he did not look scalped. Instead of a waterfall of hair flowing from the top of his head, he had a full, neat head of hair, with a slight quiff combed back and laying naturally on the hair behind it. He looked like all the young executives he saw in the Canali suits in the morning! "Gee, Mario, Danny was right, you’re good!"

A pleased Mario accepted payment for the cut and showed us out of the shop. “Hey Kyle, you want to grab some breakfast? I’m meeting my grandfather at Golden’s Kosher Deli. It’s just two blocks away."

“I’m in, I love a good bagel with a ‘schmear.’"

“You are sounding like a real New Yorker my friend."

As soon as I opened the door of Goldens, the aromas reminded me of all the times had eaten there growing up. As I walked up to the counter, Carol Golden Horowitz caught his eye and stopped what she was doing. “Danny, I’d recognize you anywhere. You look just like your father. Giorgio is sitting in the back. Make sure you stop at the front table and say hello to Ma and give her a hug, or she’ll be complaining that “kids today don’t know how to give a proper greeting." So I did as I was told, giving the elderly, but still spry matriarch a big hug and introducing Kyle to her.

“Such nice boys," she said then she turned to Pops and said something in Yiddish to him. He laughed and replied to her in Italian, and she laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. Kyle and I went over and sat down with “Pops." I introduced Kyle.

“I see you met our friend Mario, Kyle," Pops said. “I hope you are happy with your haircut."

“Nice to meet you, sir. I do like the haircut. I know Mrs. Golden said that it’s too bad Matt and I aren’t Jewish because she could find us wives very easily." But what did you say that made her laugh?"

Before Pops could answer, I said, “wait a minute, you speak Yiddish?"

Kyle smiled and said, “I have hidden depths, and a Jewish grandmother."

Pops chuckled at that and said, “if she was on your mother’s side, watch out, Mama Golden will have a matchmaker over here quicker than you can say ‘chuppah’."

“Hello, you are the only one besides Mrs. Golden that appears to speak Italian here, what did you say to her, Pops? And when did you learn Yiddish and when did she learn Italian. Oh, don’t tell me, back then, everybody got along, and we all knew each other’s languages because the immigrant grandparents were still alive, and the parents spoke it. Yada, Yada!"

“Watch that smart American mouth Danny or I may speak some Italian to Mario about your next haircut." Pops said, but he said it with a smile. “My reply to Mrs. Golden was that what she said about you two was much more polite than what she said to me when she thought her daughter and I were getting a bit too friendly back in high school." That stopped me in my tracks!


As the three of us were finishing our breakfast feast, Carol came over to the table bringing two young men who I had seen taking orders and preparing food behind the counter over to the table. “These two are my younger grandsons Jonnie and Alan. They are working for me this summer. They complain constantly about the hairnets I make them wear behind the counter and the hats when they are serving. I told them that if they get nice haircuts like Danny and his friend, then that would solve the problem. So, could one of you take them over to Mario’s when their shift is over?

In Part II, we will find out whether Jonnie and Alan get their haircuts and what happens at the tour of the museum. Also, was there a haircut in Giorgio’s past, perhaps related to an ill-fated romance with Carol? Maybe.

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