Uncle Charles Part One: Barbershop by elliottrainbow

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It was the beginning summer of 1974. I was eighteen years old and the only child of a widowed father. My mother passed away when I was born and my father had never remarried. He was older when I was born, being 42. He had one much younger brother, my Uncle Charles. My father was sixteen when Uncle Charles was born so that summer of 1974 he was about forty-four. He had always been more like a big brother than an uncle. He lived on a small farm about fifty miles away. He had never married. I often spent part of the summer with him. He spent two years in the Marines after high school and he still sported a high and tight haircut. He often joked and told my father him get a short haircut. My father wasn't big on spending money and would often go two months without a haircut. He took me to the barbershop about once every two months for a crew cut. I didn't think anything strange about basically getting my head shaved every other month because I didn't know anything different.
But that summer was different. I had not been to the barbershop in about three months. While my hair wasn't that long by the current styles, I definitely needed a haircut.
Uncle Charles dropped by that day about 4:00 p.m
As usual, he had on a baseball cap, a beer in his hand and a big wad of chewing tobacco in his cheek. He greeted me and my father and said, "All ready to go, buddy?" I nodded excitedly. He turned to my father and said, "Hey, Ed, we're going to have to do something about this boy's hair. I can't have him walking around all summer looking like a girl." My father laughed and said, "Well, Charles, take him by the barbershop on your way home and get all of that long, shaggy mess cut off. You have my blessing. But you can pay for it." Uncle Charles laughed and said, "So if I pay for his haircuts while he's staying with me, I can keep him in the haircut I want?" My father nodded yes and said, "You sure can." He then added, "Oh, Charles, you have my full permission to discipline him as needed." Uncle Charles looked right at me and said, "I think both Elliott and I know that he will definitely be disciplined as needed and he'll take it like a man, the same as you will your haircuts, right, son?" I looked at him and said, "Sure." He said with a touch of irritation in his voice, "It's yes, Sir or Yes, Sir, Uncle Charles. Do you understand?" I knew then what was expected of me and I answered crisply "Sir, yes, Sir! Sir, I will take my haircuts like a man and will obey all commands, Sir." Uncle Charles smiled and said, "Outstanding, son!"
We made it to the barbershop in about three minutes. Mr. Kennedy was the barber that had given haircuts to both my father and Uncles Charles when they were boys. He now cut my hair and my father's, though not nearly as often as he had cut theirs when they were teenagers.
Uncle Charles and Mr. Kennedy greeted each other warmly. Mr Kennedy said, "Well, Elliott, I was about to close so you can be my last customer of the day. Get in the chair, son." I did as I was told. Mr. Kennedy held out a cigar to Uncle Charles, which he accepted. Uncle Charles then surprised me by saying, "He might not be old enough for a cigar, but I bet you wouldn't say no to a chew, would you, son?"
I answered, ""Sir, I would appreciate a big chew, Sir." Uncle Charles pulled his pouch of Red Man out of his back pocket and opened it. He pulled out a big wad and said, "Open your mouth." I again did as I was told. He placed the big chew in my mouth and handed me a cup with some tissue in it. Mr. Kennedy lit his own cigar and then the cigar of Uncle Charles. Uncle Charles sat down in the chair directly across from the barber chair and said, "Mr. Kennedy, Elliott is going to stay with me all summer and his father told me I was in charge of his haircuts this summer. I know you give him a crew cut frequently, but I want to keep him in a haircut this summer that will look good only if he has a fresh haircut every week." Mr. Kennedy thought for a moment and said, "Well, I'd recommend a Recon, Charles or a head shave." Before I thought I blurted out, "I'm not getting my head shaved!"
Uncle Charles glared at me and said, "Elliott, not another word. You agreed to take your haircuts like a man and obey all commands, right?" "Sir, yes Sir, I answered!"
Uncle Charles turned to Mr. Kennedy and said, "Mr. Kennedy, I think Elliott could use the Recon for right now, but I'll keep the head shave in mind." Mr. Kennedy said, "All right, Charles, one Recon high and tight haircut for this young man."
Mr. Kennedy turned on the clippers and Uncle Charles barked out, "Elliott, sit still and sit up straight. Only move your head when either Mr. Kennedy tells you to or he moves it himself, do you understand?"
"Sir, yes Sir!" I answered.
Mr. Kennedy gently but firmly pushed my head forward until my chin was touching my chest. When the clippers touched my neck I flinched involuntary. Uncle Charles gave me a look and I knew then I would be disciplined when I got to his house. He said in a tight voice, "Elliott, why are you not sitting still like I told you to?" "Sir, I..." and then Uncle Charles said, "Elliott, when I ask you something and you don't have the exact answer for what I asked you just answer 'No excuse, Sir, and that will suffice, understand?" I answered when a grin, "Sir, yes Sir, no excuse, Sir." He grinned back and I knew this was going to be my favorite summer. Mr. Kennedy began by going over my entire head with the clippers that had a number one guard attached. After he was satisfied that all of my hair was cut to a uniform length he turned off the clippers and said, "Okay, let's tighten up those sides." My uncle laughed and said, "Go slow, Mr. Kennedy, this is my favorite part." Mr. Kennedy placed his hand palm down on the top of my head. He said, "Son, I don't know if you have seen a barber cut a Recon, but when I cut a Recon I place my hand on top of the head and then shave off everything my hand doesn't cover. Does that sound good?" "Sir, yes Sir!" I answered. He then used a small clipper to shave the sides of my head all the way up to the crown. He then wiped off the sides of my head with a hot cloth. He coated the sides liberally with warm lather. He then stropped a razor and shaved the sides, not once but twice! The second time was against the grain. After he finished he spun the chair around and asked, "Okay, Charles, one Recon high and tight haircut. What do you think?" My uncle leaned his face close into mine while clasping my chin in his hand. My uncle turned my face to the left and right while observing every facet of the haircut. A look of displeasure crossed his face and I knew he wasn't completely pleased with the length of my hair even though at that point my hair was shorter than it had ever been. He said as he was rubbing his hand over my short hair on top, "Mr. Kennedy, I don't want this shaved, but could we take this down a bit more and would it to be too much trouble to take this up a good bit higher in the back? This looks great but I think he will do better this summer if I keep him in a very severe Recon haircut." Mr. Kennedy nodded and went back to work. This time when he finished my uncle grinned from ear to ear. "That's perfect, Mr. Kennedy, outstanding!" Mr. Kennedy asked, "Well, do you like your haircut, son?" I answered (noticing the look on look on my uncle's face), "Yes, Sir, Mr. Kennedy, I like it very much, Sir. Thank you for giving me a Recon, Sir." My uncle nodded at me and I knew I had dodged a bullet on that one. My uncle looked me in the eye and said, "Like it or not, he better get used to it because I'm sure now that I see how it looks on him, this is the haircut I'm keeping him in all summer."
He paid Mr. Kennedy and we left the barbershop. We drove off and Uncle Charles said, "Elliott, I want to discuss your behavior in the barbershop. I'll commend you on politeness but you need to show more enthusiasm for your haircut. I'd like to hear a few 'looks great, Sir ', or 'cut it shorter, Sir' next week. Now, while I won't hold you responsible this time for flinching, although I will from now on, you are responsible for what you blurted out. I need you to understand that I will make the haircut rules and you abide by them. Now, what you said today about having your head shaved. I've given it some thought and I've decided that you will be receiving a lather and razor head shave sometime this summer. Your punishment for today's actions will be ten licks with the paddle." "Sir, yes Sir." I answered. We arrived at his house in about thirty minutes. As soon as we walked in he pulled off his belt. I was surprised because in the truck he had mentioned the paddle. He saw the look on my face and said, "I know what I said. I've decided instead of ten licks with the paddle you get fifteen with the belt. Unless you want to make me proud of you and take both." I realized then he was trying in his own way to make me into a man. I answered in a squared away voice, "Sir, recruit does want you to be proud of him, Sir." My uncle looked at me and said in a low voice, "Outstanding, you began calling yourself recruit before I instructed you to. Alright, recruit, you say you want me to be proud of you. How many licks do you think it would take for me to be extremely proud of you? And, son, before you answer I want you to think about a phrase the DIs used to tell us at Parris Island - pain is good and extreme pain is extremely good."
I thought about it a few moments and answered, "Sir, recruit believes a total of fifty licks would do the trick, Sir." "You are exactly right, recruit. Drop your pants and grab the edge of the desk. Oh, I better hear a Sir before and after the number of each lick. Every time you mess up, we start over. Do you understand?" he asked. I answered in a shaky voice, "Sir, yes Sir."
I unbuttoned my jeans and let them drop to my ankles. I guess I was going too slowly to please my uncle. He barked out,"I ain't got all day, son." I grabbed the desk and he began, using the belt first.
I took it like a man, I am proud to say.
I stayed with my uncle all summer. I began to look forward to the weekly haircuts. I can't remember what I did to disobey my uncle the second trip to the barbershop, but I do remember that when we got back to his house I got the paddle. I think by the third week we both recognized that I should receive the paddle every week in addition to going to the barbershop and receiving a Recon. I know because as were on the way to the barbershop for my third Recon Uncle Charles jokingly said, I guess I should just go ahead and paddle you now." I laughed with him, but then I looked at him and said, "Sir, why don't you, Sir?" He just nodded his head and said, "Assume the position." That was it. Each Saturday after that he would grab the wooden paddle off the hook while telling me to drop my pants and grab the edge of the desk. I then would count off while he gave me licks. It was never more than fifty and never less than twenty-five, his choice. There were no hard feelings between us about the summer. Even after he told the barber at the local barbershop to start shaving my head. He kept me in a shaved head for about a month and then went back to the Recon. I was sad to see the summer end. But I knew that next summer Uncle Charles would ask me to spend the summer with him, he would insist on either a Recon or head shave every week... and he would still have the paddle.

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