Nelson's new look by Manny

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As requested, here is a prequel to "Pilot’s Cap." Special thanks to Linus for creating the character of Barber Kevin!

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Nelson’s head was still spinning as he walked down the hall toward his homeroom. The agitated voice of his stern father reverberated in his head, "Alice, bring some bobby pins! I want to see my son’s face when he’s seated across the breakfast table from me!!"

His mother, who was always the kinder and gentler parent, did not stand up for him on this occasion.

"You really do need a haircut, Nelson. I don’t know why you’re tormenting yourself with all this hair constantly in your face," she said as she stretched out an open hand with two bobby pins in it.

"I was just leaving," Nelson replied, abruptly leaving the table in order to evade the ridiculous humiliation of having to pin his hair away from his face, as if he were a little girl.

"Don’t forget, I’m picking you up this afternoon," his father harrumphed. "Be outside the school entrance at 4:30 sharp. I don’t want to have to wait while you kiss all your fairy friends goodbye."

Nelson resented the insinuation and stormed out of the kitchen.

His father had never given Nelson an ultimatum to cut his hair, but the nagging was constant, and his bullying could be intense, at times.

Nelson hated all the conflict at home…and, it was probably unnecessary. It could all be resolved, if he chose, in a 15-minute trip to the barber shop.

But, Nelson wanted to experience long hair. What was wrong with that? Not some awful matted hippy stuff, but something freer and less constraining than the little-boy haircut he had sported his whole life. What was so bad about a bit of individuality? He kept his hair clean and brushed as well as he could.

When Nelson had begun letting his hair grow out, the compliments poured in from all quarters. His thick, lustrous locks turned many heads (although, certainly, some oldsters glared with disapproval). But with people who mattered to Nelson, the moptop look was an overwhelming success, especially with the girls (and, also with jealous boys who didn’t have the freedom to wear long hair).

Eventually, Nelson eventually realized there could be too much of a good thing. When the hair started falling constantly in his eyes, it was a bother. How many times a day did he find himself mopping it back with one or both hands?! And the heat of summer had been especially trying â€" like he was stuck wearing a winter hat through 100-degree temps.

Unfortunately, the more his father made the length of his hair an issue, the more stubborn Nelson had become. He would not cut it just to please his father!

His mother was another story…. He could tell she didn’t like it, and even at breakfast that day she’d recommend he get it cut. Oh, well…decisions!

The school bell rang, and Nelson found himself entering his homeroom on the heels of his best friend, Felix.

"Hey, buddy, I need your advice. I think it’s time I get this mop cut. A serious haircut. What do you say?" Nelson asked.

"No way! Is your old man on your case again?" Felix asked.

"Yeah," Nelson sighed.

"Don’t do it! Your hair is amazing! The longer it gets, the better it looks," Felix insisted.

"….and the worse it feels. I’m getting sick of it, always in my face," Nelson moaned.

"Maybe I can trim it a bit for you," Felix offered.

"What?! I can’t have an amateur like you hacking away at it!" Nelson exclaimed. "Since when have you become a wannabe barber?"

The boys took their assigned seats and Mr. Merino started calling out the names for attendance.

Nelson liked Mr. Merino. He was upbeat about his subject (English literature…boring!) and took a personal interest in his students. He was also great for palling around or dispensing advice. He understood teens, even though he was still single and had no family of his own.

In addition, Nelson found Mr. Merino very handsome with his dark hair, heavy mustache and Italian facial lines. He might even have had a crush on his teacher, although that was something Nelson would never admit to, not even to himself.

"Hey, sir, do you mind if I drop by after school? I need some advice on a personal matter," Nelson said as he was leaving homeroom.

All day long, Nelson thought about what Mr. Merino might say. He certainly wouldn’t take Felix’s line. And, he might even be sympathetic to the parental point of view.

When school was finally over, Nelson almost felt excited about the heart-to-heart chat with Mr. Merino.

"Ah, you came," Mr. Merino said looking up from the papers he was grading.

He stroked his showy mustache, as he was prone to do.

"What’s this about needing advice? You usually see things pretty clearly for someone your age, Nelson. You’re one of the more mature guys in the high school!" Mr. Merino remarked.

Nelson’s eyes sparkled as he basked in the praise. Mr. Merino’s opinion of him meant a lot.

"It’s about my hair, sir," Nelson began.

"Ah, that’s a fine mane you’ve grown," the teacher replied. "If I didn’t have to maintain a professional look, it’s what I might want for myself!"

Oh, no! Mr. Merino tipped his hand, and he was going to be on the "save the locks" side of the debate.

"If you had hair this long, and frankly out of control much of the time, you might not like it as much as you think," Nelson replied.

Mr. Merino’s face clouded over a bit.

"So, what’s the problem? If your hair is too long, get it cut," he said pointedly.

Nelson looked down. This simplistic reasoning was not what he’d had in mind. He thought Mr. Merino would be more nuanced. They might have some sparring on the pro’s and con’s of keeping or cutting.

Mr. Merino cleared his throat a bit, "Oh, I’m sorry. Things are a lot more complex, usually, I realize. Maybe there’s a bit of parental pressure conflicting with peer pressure?"

Nelson looked up; relief was etched across his face. Mr. Merino understood!

"Exactly! You hit the nail on the head," Nelson stammered.

Mr. Merino was the right person to seek out! He would know what to do.

"So, what should I do? Keep growing it to please my friends or cut it to please my parents?" Nelson asked.

"You haven’t told me YOU yourself want, Nelson," Mr. Merino said gently.

"I’m tired of it long and unruly. I’d like to have it cut, I guess. But, I don’t want my father to think he browbeat me into it. And, he’s picking me up in five minutes! I need to be outside, in front, or there will be hell to pay," Nelson said in a panic.

"Then, get it cut. To the length you want," Mr. Merino said gently. "Don’t make it an issue with him. Just be yourself."

Nelson looked up at his teacher in amazement. So simple, yet so profound. The solution to his dilemma…be himself.

"If I were in your situation, I’d want my hair styled just like that teen-idol from the 1970s, David Cassidy. I was a big fan of The Partridge Family and watched the re-runs religiously when I was your age. But, my parents were very strict about hair length. I had the awful short-back-and-sides, the dreaded taper, when all the other guys flaunted feathered styles with center parts, ears covered and to-die-for mullets flowing over the collar," Mr. Merino laughed. "It seems like you have a choice, Nelson. I didn’t. Consider yourself lucky."

"You have a choice, now, Mr. Merino!" Nelson called out as he hurried from the room. "Just be yourself! You’d rock a retro-look!"

Nelson laughed at the way he’d thrown Mr. Merino’s advice back at him. He was going to continue it, with some playful pressure. Like leaving some pictures of that teen-idol - what was his name? David Partridge? - on Mr. Merino’s desk.

His father’s car pulled up, and Nelson jumped in. He was doing a bit of googling about the 1970s when his feed started showing some muscle cars from the era -- Chevrolet Camaro, Pontiac’s Firebird and GTO, the Dodge Challenger and Plymouth Barracuda -- all so amazing.

"What are you studying there, son?" his father asked in a much calmer tone than he’d used at the breakfast table.

"Cars from the 1970s. They’re awesome," Nelson said.

"Look up a 1973 Cutlass Supreme," his father said.

"OMG! I love it!" Nelson exclaimed. "How much do you think a car like that would cost? You know I’m going to be old enough to get my permit next month."

"More than you can afford," his father smirked. "Your great-aunt Margaret had a car just like that. It’s in pristine condition, and a convertible! Little old lady only drove it to church on Sundays and to the grocery store. Clean as a whistle."

The two rode on in silence.

"Hey, this isn’t the way home," Nelson said, suddenly noticing the route they were taking.

"I need to run by the barber shop. It shouldn’t take long. There’s an ice cream shop in the subway plaza if you want to hang out. Or, you could come with me and get yourself a decent haircut. You heard your mother this morning," his father said, suddenly feeling his blood pressure rising.

"Dad! If you want to make me get a haircut, just say so! Stop the games!" Nelson snapped, irritated. "You want to act like I’m grown up and can make my own decisions, but then you nag and badger. I hate it!"

His father pulled into the station’s parking garage and threw the car door open in a huff.

"If I used that tone with my dad, I’d have felt the back of his hand across my face!" his father snarled. "Stay in the car then!"

"No, I’m coming with you," Nelson replied firmly. "Just treat me with some respect."

"Respect is a two-way street, young man," his father said tersely. "There was a time when kids knew how to ‘honor their father and mother.’ But, not in this household, it seems."

As they walked through the subway station in silence, Nelson was in emotional turmoil. Just get the whole damn thing over with -- hop up in the barber chair. Appease his father. Please his mother.

Then, he thought about Mr. Merino. Be himself! But, who was he, really? It was true, he had to admit, he did want some relief from the mop….

During the ride up the escalator, Nelson began wishing he’d have gone to the ice cream parlor instead. What sort of mischievous trap lay ahead for him in that lair of legalistic conformity, the butcher-barber shop where all the men had their hair clip short and tidy like his father’s?

The glow of neon alerted Nelson that the barber shop was getting closer with each passing moment. His stomach churned, but he would not chicken out. He would accompany his father into the shop….and, just maybe, he’d decide to get a haircut himself. Spontaneously, by his own free will. But, probably not….

The ambience of the barber shop quickly brought back memories of a simpler time when there wasn’t as much tension in the house. That is, before he went through puberty, back when he submissively did what his father demanded. As a boy, Nelson’s hair had always been kept neat and tidy, tapered short around the ears and up the back, like all his schoolmates.

Now, a big bowl of unruly blond hair -- a mop! -- was constantly intruding in his face, as well as dangling over his ears and completely covering his collar. Nelson stuck out dramatically in the traditional barber shop and its military décor.

The eyes of the four barbers quickly locked onto his moptop, like high-tech heat-seeking missiles. There was no doubt that each of them longed to take the clippers to his hair.

The most eager of the four seemed to be the barber in the second chair. The nameplate on the mirror identified him as Kevin.

Nelson studied Kevin almost as intently as Kevin studied Nelson.

The barber appeared to be about Mr. Merino’s age and stood just over six feet tall -- his hair slightly thinning, but not obviously balding. He kept everything clipped down to a #2 on top with a relaxed taper around the sides. He had that magical barber quality of never looking freshly cut but also never appearing over grown. Kevin wore old army camo pants that hugged his shapely ass and legs. Whatever tight tee-shirt he wore was covered by the classic barber smock that buttoned on the shoulder, which all four barbers sported.

Nelson averted the barber’s continued attention by looking down at the checked linoleum floor of the shop. Then, he noticed Kevin’s combat jungle boots! The barber’s footwear continued the military motif of his camo pants and the shop’s military motifs.

Nelson’s mind wandered. He imagined Kevin as a bootcamp barber, shearing the recruits on reception day, and himself standing in line…right behind Mr. Merino!

Kevin’s calm demeanor belied what a menace he was with his shearing instrument of choice, a trusty pair of Oster Model 10s. The imagined bootcamp barber was unstoppable once those clippers were humming, and, in Nelson’s fantasy, his jungle boots were already half submerged in shorn locks on the barber shop floor. Barber Kevin kicked the piles of hair around his chair like mud, more of a nuisance but not enough for him to set down the clippers to sweep. Nelson imagined that’s why Kevin wore those combat boots. Even the silkiest piles of hair on the floor were no hazard for Barber Kevin trampling the shorn locks of the inductees.

Suddenly, Nelson was jerked back into the reality of the real barber shop, by Kevin addressing him!

"You here for a High and Tight, kid? That’s my specialty," Kevin remarked.

"Wouldn’t that be perfect?!" Nelson’s father quipped.

Nelson shot his father an exasperated look and defiantly ignored the barber’s question.

"What about you, sir?" Kevin continued, addressing Nelson’s father.

Nelson contained a sudden smirk, enjoying his father discomfort as his elder squirmed in the harsh attention of Barber Kevin!

"No, uh, not for me. It’ll be my usual businesscut," the father replied nervously.

Then Kevin pontificated a bit, sort of generally informing all present, "As a rule of thumb, I cut hair short. I hate finishing a haircut and having a client ask for it to be shorter. If it was cut too short, well, guess what…? HAIR GROWS! And, the client will have a little extra time before his next visit."

The old barber deadpanned, "Yep, Kevin. I think it’s no secret with the regulars they might expect a ‘shorter-than-expected’ haircut from you."

"Can I help it if I’m a barber who goes above and beyond the call of duty for the benefit of the client?" Kevin teased back.

Just then, two men entered the shop. One of them was sporting a flattop!

Nelson’s eyes bulged. Why was he here for a haircut? It was already so short! There was some banter. The other man was also going to get a flattop. And, he was going to lose a lot of hair! He had quite a nice executive coif.

Nelson got a bit excited at the thought of watching a dramatic transformation. The elegant coif falling in the wake of fastfeed electric hair clippers! Perhaps such a show would encourage him to shed his unruly mane….

Nelson crossed his legs nervously. He felt a bit of unexplainable excitement in his groin. What the heck?!

"Who’s next?" one of the barber’s asked as the client he’d just finished vacated the barber chair.

"That would be me," Nelson’s father said.

"I can take your son first, if you’d like," the barber commented hopefully, his eyes locked on the blond mop. "He seems to be in much more need of a haircut than you."

The father advanced toward the large chair covered in red vinyl upholstery.

"No one would argue with that, but he’s just accompanying me here today. None of you barbers will get near his precious locks with your cutting instruments, I’m afraid. The lad is adamant about protecting the mop," he said in a loud, animated voice.

"Dad!" Nelson gasped, obviously embarrassed.

Nelson watched his father ease into the chair; the large white cape billowed around before it fluttered into place.

The easy, relaxed feel of the shop began to grow on Nelson. The playful banter between the barbers. Men chewing the fat and discussing the most uncontroversial things….

Every time Nelson pushed the hair back from his face, Barber Kevin’s head snapped around and glared at him.

The business executive was called to the chair. Nelson’s attention perked up again. The first drive of the clippers up the back of the man’s head was amazing. Vast amounts of styled hair fell to the barber’s feet. OMG! Nelson’s groin surged into high alert.

He imagined his own blond locks succumbing to the same fate?! Maybe that’s truly what he wanted! To go from ultra-long to ultra-short….

He watched the business executive’s transformation with intense curiosity and got lost in another fantasy. This time it was him telling Barber Kevin to give Mr. Merino a flattop and to shave off his thick, showy mustache! Poor Mr. Merino…especially losing his cherished mustache! He’d look so boyish and vulnerable without it….

As he was enjoying this fantasy, reality again disrupted him in a jarring way.

"Come on, hop up here! That shag is a mess," Barber Kevin taunted.

He was receiving the payment from his previous client. There was no one else in the waiting area.

Nelson sat frozen, like a deer in the headlines.

His father announced to the whole shop, "Well, he’s not getting a driver’s permit until the mop’s been cut short! Can’t have him driving with hair in his eyes like that. He’d be a menace to society."

Oh, no! His father played a trump card! A powerful, trump card!

One of the other clients joined the pressure campaign, "Go ahead, boy! Get a haircut! You’ll look and feel much better. Fancy a flattop like mine, kid?"

"Tell you what, son," his father remarked, "you climb into that chair right now and you can have Aunt Maggie’s vintage Cutlass Supreme. As the executor of her estate, I’ll have her car put in your name instead of sending it to auction."

"Really?" Nelson stammered. "Her ’73 Cutlass?!"

"That’s right, but this offer expires in ten seconds. 10 - 9 - 8 - 7…" his father droned.

That settled it! He would have his bothersome hair cut short. And, he’d get something very tangible, very valuable for it. It would be a win-win situation. And, his father would be appeased, and his mother pleased…. Make that a win-win-win-win! And, he would tell Mr. Merino that he made the decision to ditch the mop and to ditch it big time!

In a flash, Nelson was on his feet, tossing his hair back and moving quickly to the empty chair.

Kevin grinned from ear-to-ear as he cast the cape around the teen.

"I’m going to make a man out of you!" the barber exclaimed. "But, since you still look like a bratty kid, I’m going to ask papa there how short he wants it cut!"

"Off the ears, collar and eyebrows. Especially the bangs -- snip them nice and short, away from the eyes," Nelson’s father replied.

That didn’t sound too bad. At least he wasn’t getting a flattop, Nelson thought.

Kevin could not contain his glee as he combed the bulky bangs straight down so that they completely covered Nelson’s eyes, dangling to the tip of his nose.

"Let’s start with this awful bit of mange," Kevin sneered as he primed the shears.

Nelson felt the cold steel blade of the scissors slip behind the cascade of hair and begin to slide up his forehead…higher and higher…until it was just above the midpoint.

Then came the SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!!!

Nelson gripped the arms of the chair as his trendy fringe fell to his lap.

Kevin grabbed a duster and slapped it around a bit. Then, he combed the short bangs straight down again.

"What do you say, kid? Shorter in front?" he asked rhetorically.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP!!

Now the bangs were cut to near the top of his forehead!

Nelson felt woozy after that initial assault on his locks! But, that was just the beginning of his transformation.

Kevin clamped a firm hand on his head and forced it into a lowly, bowing posture. The heavy-duty Oster’s hummed to life. He was going to get scalped!

"Let’s make your father proud of you, how ‘bout that?" Kevin crowed as he drove the clippers tightly up the back of Nelson’s head, from nape to crown. "I’ll have you looking respectable and decent in a jiffy."

Nelson refused to object or show any sign of the turmoil he was feeling.

The clippers clipped off more of his magnificent blond mane.

"Shoot!" Kevin exclaimed, "it’s like I’m back in a bootcamp barbershop!"

"One can’t go wrong with military lengths," Nelson’s father piped up from the other chair.

"I hear you, Pops. Clipper over comb ought to suit the lad," Kevin laughed. "I’ll take him down tight, tight, TIGHT!"

Showers of snippets and clumps of blond rained down on the cape.

Nelson began feeling a slight release from the anxiety of having his long hair cut. In fact, the more hair he saw piling up on his lap, the more he enjoyed the haircut.

Kevin went into overdrive, stripping the hair off around his hair and up both sides.

"What were you thinking, letting it get so long?" Kevin asked him.

"Peer pressure, I guess," Nelson replied.

"Well how about you start setting the trend at school with a nice short crewcut. Bring your pals by. Your teachers too!" Kevin said.

Nelson thought about Mr. Merino, under the cape. He would look fantastic with a tight crewcut! As he imagined Mr. Merino’s showy mustache getting clipped off, Nelson’s groin surged with delight.

"I have a teacher who has a massive, thick mustache that’s just itching to be removed," Nelson remarked.

"Bring him to me!" Kevin exclaimed. "I’ll do the honors. Give him a clean upper lip!"

"He’s very protective of it," Nelson replied, drawing out the situation a bit more.

"Those are the best to deal with. The chair will be reclined and pumped up. He’ll be helpless as his treasured stache is shaved off," Kevin laughed. "Yes, bring him here. In your new Cutlass Supreme! I want to see the rod that that came with the crewcut-combo. You’ve paid a nice price for it, fellow!"

Kevin grabbed a wad of silken cut blond hair from the lad’s lap and held it up as a trophy.

Nelson noted lightly, "My hair had been on my nerves for a while and I’m glad it’s getting cropped short. It’ll be much more practical."

"That’s music to my ears," piped his father, whose haircut had ended. "No return to the sullen shag, I hope."

Nelson’s father ambled over to get a look at his son’s tidy, clean-cut image.

"Your mother will thank you! It looks a thousand times better, Nelson!" his father remarked.

"So, is there a vintage Cutlass Supreme in the deal for me?" Kevin laughed.

"Afraid not, but you will get a very generous tip. That’s a mighty fine crewcut you’ve given my son," Nelson’s father said.


Nelson’s whole head had been clipped down close with only a tiny bit of length where the bangs had once flowed. He no longer looked like a rebellious teen, but a properly behaved middle school pupil. Blond hair was all over the cape and floor.

"Looking smart, kid," Kevin said, removing the cape. "And, remember, I want to take a razor to that showy mustache you told me about."

Nelson explored his clipped head. "This feels great! Thanks, Kevin!"

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