Part I Hair Mail

I just received an email an old friend with whom I have not spoken to in well over a year. I’m horrible about keeping up with old friends. I’m actually okay with being horrible about keeping up with old friends. When people live a thousand, two thousand, or five miles away from me, I really have no interest in engaging in a chat chat constant contact relationship. I live in Baltimore and socialize with people in Baltimore. I can’t keep up with all the old alliances.

Don’t get me wrong, from time to time I like to run into or hear from these old friends, like every year or five, touch base, hear a brief synopsis of what's going on in their lives, wish them well, and repeat cycle in a year of five. This saves me from having to go to weddings, family reunions, etc. I generally hate that crap. In fact, I generally hate travel. Vacations boor the hell out of me. Give me a couple of weekends in New York a year and my wanderlust is satiated. I happiest sticking around Mt. Vernon and engaging with people who are in Mt. Vernon.

Back to what I was talking about, this old friend of mine and I just exchanged a couple of emails. I t was really great to hear from her. She’s living in Chicago, her family seems well, she met a great guy that everybody loves and they’re getting married in a year, etc.... I replied by telling her all about my hairline:

Otherwise, not much has changed around here. Other
than my hairline. In the W.W.I like trench warfare
battle between my hair and my forehead, the forehead
has gained about and inch and is slowly outflanking
the hair’s forward battalion on the left and right
temples. I estimate that in about two years, the
forward battalion is going to be completely cut off
from the rest of the hair army. At which point, the
hair will be forced to sign a treaty demanding a
quarter inch clipper cut. I’m hoping the hair accepts
this treaty and doesn’t try to flee to my back in a
misguided attempt to join forces with their allies on
my ass.

Basically, this entire post is just an excuse to share that one paragraph. I’m very proud of it.

So, in conclusion to part I of this post, congratulations Erin on your upcoming wedding. Unlike other peoples’ boring ass weddings, I would actually really like to attend yours. I think it’s great that you decided to have the wedding in Maryland, because, well, if it was in Chicago, there wouldn’t be a chance in hell of me actually attending. I might even buy you a gift, maybe....

All right, I’ll buy you a damn gift.

Part II Grooming Heaven.

Since we’re on the subject of my hair, for some time now I’ve been meaning to sing the praises of my barber shop. Caesar’s Forum in Upper Fells/Highlandtown/Canton/Paterson Park or whatever the hell the real estate liars are calling that neighborhood nowadays is far and away the best place I’ve ever come across to get a hair cut.

First of all, I’d like to point out it’s fantastic interior. It’s all over the top extreme Greek/Roman genuine kitsch without one ounce of irony. I fucking hate irony, but love tacky. Fake column’s abound, busts of Emperors, painted entirely in Mediterranean blue and white. Large color televisions seem to constantly broadcast baseball.

Their services for men are outstanding:

Facial Hair Design 10
Neck Shave & outline Nape 7
Back Straight Razor Shave 25
Hot Towel Shaves 15
Hot Towel Scalp Shaves 20
Mustache Trim 2
MUstache Trim % Goatee 5
Beard Trim 7

I have no idea what “Facial Hair Design” is. I don’t even have any facial hair, but I want a facial hair design. And look, they’ll shave your back for you! I don’t have back hair either (yet: reference Part I), but any barber who is willing to shave their customer’s back is aces in my book.

Most importantly, while you wait to have your hair cut, they GIVE you beer. Not sell you beer, they give it to you. That is just so damn right!