Transfiguration by jasom

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My name is Alex. I grew up in the 70s. In 1972 I was 10 years old. There were 16 boys in our class. But only 5 had short hair and went to old-fashioned barbershops. But I used to go to a modern barbershop and my hair covered my ears, my bangs were usually long to the tip of my nose, and on the back of my head my hair was long and over my shirt collar.
Parents of the entire school were called to a meeting with the teachers. The parents received our interim results from the teachers, and in the second part they were informed about photography at school. In addition to group photos by grades, parents who were interested could register their children for individual photos at the school desk. The teachers asked the parents to come to school dressed for the holiday on Monday and recommended that the boys have decent hairstyles.
My mother told me in the evening that she went with the mothers of my classmates Issack and Mark. She informed me that both mothers said they would take their sons to the barber before the photo shoot. I felt sorry for both of them, because they went to an old-fashioned barber shop and didn't have long hair.
On Saturday morning, my mother told me that at 8:30 we would go to the city so that she could buy me a new white shirt and give me a haircut for Monday's photo shoot. I was surprised when we went in a different direction than my modern barber shop. But I assumed we were going to buy a new white shirt first.
We crossed to the street where there were small shops and from a distance I saw the sign of the old fashioned Matthews barbershop. I asked my mother where are we going? She said with a smile that I will go get a haircut first. I started protesting that I didn't want to go to Matthews barber shop. But the mother said that this barber shop was highly praised by the mothers of my classmates Issack and Mark. I realized they both have short hair.
Suddenly we were standing in front of the barber shop and my mother started pushing me inside. Upon opening the door, we found the barbershop full of boys and old men. For me, it was a chance to get out of this old-fashioned barber shop.
The mother asked the barber how long it would take for my haircut and whether she could go to the shops while I waited for my haircut. The barber replied that his father, who was a retired barber, would also come in a moment and that I would have my hair cut in about an hour. My mother told the barber that we would be taking pictures at school on Monday and she would like to give me a decent boy's haircut. The barber agreed and my mother told me that if I got a haircut before she came home from the shops, I should wait for her at the barber shop and she would then pay the barber for my new haircut.
I was nervous and didn't know what a barber considers a decent boy's haircut. Every boy who left the barber's chair had short hair, regardless of whether he was a small boy or an older boy.
An 8-year-old boy sat down in the barber's chair, his father came to the barber and gave him instructions on how to cut his hair. At that time, a 70-year-old man entered the barber shop. It was the barber's father who used to be a barber in this barber shop. In no time he prepared his tools and said another! The boy's older brother sat in his chair. I assumed she was 11 years old. If their father approached him and gave instructions to cut his elder son's hair. The barber wrapped him in a sheet. He turned the chair with the boy's back to the mirror. The boy looked at the waiting chairs. An old gentleman asked why he turned him around: The older barber said that such boys always want to look in the mirror while getting a haircut. The barber began to cut the older boy's hair. Meanwhile, his younger brother was getting his hair cut, and their father took his place in the barber's chair.
The older boy had a haircut and his hair seemed shorter than his younger brother's. I guess that's how their father wanted it. The older boy stroked the back of his head with his palms.
That's what the older barber called another! The elderly gentleman warned me that it was my turn and to go to the barber. I was very excited and my legs were shaking. The younger of the barbers said that my mother wanted a decent haircut for me for the photo shoot. The barber wrapped me in a sheet. I too had my back turned to the mirror. The barber combed my hair. He bent my head forward and started to cut the entire nape of my neck. Long hair began to fall into the lap on the sheet. Later, my hair was cut on both sides of my head. The barber changed the blades on the electric clipper. He tilted my head back and started cutting the hair on top of my head. When the scissors were turned off and I was able to stretch out, I could not see any hair from the bangs in front of my eyes. The barber continued to style my hair. He wet the back of my head and the sides of my head as he brushed the trimmed hair around my neck and shoulders. I saw a lot of my hair on the floor. The barber applied some cream to the sides and back of the neck and began to scrape it off with a razor. The barber finished my haircut. He turned the chair and I had the opportunity to see in the mirror a boy with very short hair on top of his head. The hair was only on the top of the head and only 1/4 inch long.
After releasing myself from the barber's chair, I went to sit on the waiting chair until my mother arrived. I stroked my clean shaven neck with my hands. I found that my hairstyle was the same as the older boy's. He was also looking for the hair behind the back of his neck.
My mother entered the barber shop. At first she couldn't find me. I stood up. That's when she recognized me. I saw surprise in her eyes. Then she smiled and complimented my new hairstyle. She thanked the barber and paid for my haircut. On the way home, she said that she would pay as much for 4 such haircuts as for one haircut in a modern barber shop.
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My classmates were shocked by my new hairstyle. It was a big transformation. But then they started laughing.
I had the shortest hair in the joint photo with my classmates. Classmates Issack and Mark were cut by the younger of the barbers and their haircuts were not as drastic as mine. After that, we took pictures at the desk with an open textbook. The photographer pointed to the right and said: a bird will fly out. I turned my head. In the photo, you could see how the left side of my head was white and cleanly shaved.

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My father and mother were very happy with my short hair and wanted me to get more haircuts at the old-fashioned Matthews barber shop.

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