Don't believe the hype

Sure, in the movie "Barbershop," everybody has a good time. Joking and laughing and sharing some life lessons along the way.

In real life, at our neighborhood barbershop, there are no life lessons being shared. There's no playful playing of the dozens, or witty repartee between old-school razormen and young new jacks on the make. Just some faded wood paneling, a weird pastel crayon portrait of Nancy Reagan, a few old copies of Field & Stream, and one really unhappy 15-month-old.

Ice Cube: you sir, sit in an adjustable revolving faux-leather chair of lies...

I took Samson for his second haircut today; we hadn't even passed the rotating barber pole meridian when he started to protest. Loudly. He was already crying while I was taking his jacket off, and by the time we settled into the chair, he was screaming.

A lot.

Mr. Garry (two "R's" for some reason) was a pro, however, and managed not only to give Sam a really nice haircut, but to keep his cool the whole time.

No idea why this child gets so agitated about haircuts.

And yes, we did get the Samson joke today. Hilarious. You know, Samson also killed a thousand Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey, but nobody ever brings that up.

Actually, this might be a good thing. (The world is full of Philistines; no sense in making them mad.)

Anyhow, if I'd paid closer attention in Dr. Keener's 17th- and 18th-century British literature class years ago, I could probably make some clever reference to Alexander Pope's "Rape of the Lock."

Sadly, I did not, so insert your own erudite joke about haircuts here.