Importance Of A Good Barber
Dec 7, 2006 - 7:59:24 PM
From the time I was seven or eight years old, I always got my hair cut at the same barbershop. Leonard Knuckles, Master Barber, was the owner of S&S Babershop located in a strip mall on the southwest corner of Harding Place and Nolensville Pike intersection in Nashville, Tennessee. There was also another gentleman barber in the shop at one time, but he had already gone when I started visiting.Mr. Knuckles always had the same hairstyle: combed straight back with just a hint of a pompadour. His hair was once a dark brown, almost black, but the last time I saw him, it had turned to a nice salt and pepper color - mostly salt. As we both grew older, I began to associate his appearance with Randy Travis, the country star. They both had similar facial features and Mr. Knuckles was always listening to country music on his radio.
Most times one would have to wait a while to get a haircut as there was always somebody ahead of you. The whole process usually took about 25 to 30 minutes, so if you were third or fourth in line, you'd more than likely make it through two or three magazines on the available rack. But no matter who you were, Mr. Knuckles gave the same great service and attention to details. "Well, what're we gonna do with it today," spoken with a slight tinge of Jed Clampett and a drawn out "Weelllll", was the beginning of a Knuckles cut. He probably already knew what you wanted, as each of his customers had been coming in for years. Some were so trusting that they would take a quick nap and wake up in a half hour with a new coiffure - which was okay because Mr. Knuckles rarely spoke while working. The finishing touch was warm, shaving lather on the sideburns, around the ears, and across the back of the neck followed up with a trimming from a straight razor.
Customers always had a great view when in "the seat." There was a lithograph of a steam locomotive traveling up an incline between majestic mountains hanging on the painted cinder-block wall directly in front of you - you rarely faced the mirrors. Over the years, the locomotive made many trips to destinations in Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. Under the painting, there was a short, wooden bookshelf with a collection of tonics and aftershaves mostly from Pinaud Clubman. At one time, I had all the labels and prices memorized. There were also unbreakable combs, pocket brushes, and nail clippers. The price for a haircut on the small, white cardboard sign changed throughout the years from $5 to $11. Not bad considering the span was more than 20 years.
Mr. Knuckles eventually retired and sold the shop some years ago. During the time since then, I have patronized many barbershops and dare I say "stylists" trying to find a replacement for my barber friend. Some came close. Others would have made Mr. Knuckles laugh or perhaps cry. I even took matters into my own hands a few times during the hot summers and gave myself "buzz cuts." Of course, Paula hated when I did that, but I think she ultimately understood my frustration.
Finally, on one visit to the Naval Air Station in Pensacola, Florida, last November for an air show, I got an official military style trim - not the "high and tight" of the Marines. It was a U.S. Navy cut. Walking out I couldn't believe how much it resembled an authentic Knuckles cut. This is what I needed - a military barber, one who could work magic with shears and rarely needed scissors! The problem was, I had no idea where to find one locally.
As fate would have it, I recently learned from a local GI that a barbershop had opened on the National Guard base just a few miles away and was told to check it out. Well, I did and I'm glad to say that I have finally found a replacement for Mr. Knuckles; it's tremendously invigorating and poignant all at the same time. Her name is Mary. She's a rather attractive, youthful-looking, Korean lady who makes you feel like you've known her for years. She can work magic with shears and rarely uses scissors. Hair tonic and a gentle scalp massage finish a standard cut. I've already seen her twice and I must say that this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Now, if I could just find her a painting of a steam locomotive.
Comments
| Duanium http://www.duanium.com Dec 7, 2006 11:25 PM | That's a cool story about Knuckles. I don't think you ever told me about that one. |
| Mike Dec 8, 2006 6:33 PM | I remembered it as soon as I saw your latest update. It's funny how things come back with just reading a name. I have a couple of good barbers here. A few blocks from home is Lou's Barber Shop, but probably my favorite is Struble's in the next town over, Sparta. Nowell Struble used to work for Lou and Jim back when the shop was L & J's. He's a young guy, probably not even 30 yet, who went out on his own a little over a year ago. He's really serious about it and quick. He even does a complete "head vacuum" after the clipping is done and then pulls out the padded shoulder massager (same as Lou's in that respect). Sparta is a smaller town than Ozark. The buildings on the square are all late 19th/early 20th century construction so his shop has that very old feel to it. It's one of the many farm towns around here so the style fits the surroundings, except for the surfer magazines. I plan to eventually put up some photos on Flickr or SnapFish that showcases Ozark's architecture and businesses. It's a neat little town. |
Copyright © 2006 - 2008
Duanium
Dec 7, 2006
10:57 PM
After Mr. Knuckles retired I would visit a shop on Nolensville Road that had the same quality about it, along with various pieces of sports memorabilia in glass cases, such as trophies, baseballs, footballs, autographs, etc. One major difference was in the number of barbers at the shop; three or four at a time, mostly, and they were all very talkative. I always found it amusing, sort of like watching television. But equally satisfying to me was sitting in the chair as Mr. Knuckles worked steadily and rarely spoke during that quarter hour. To me that was like curling up with a good book and all was peaceful.
I remember once after work I rushed down to the shop to try to make it before he closed at 6:00. I made it at about 5:40, just enough time, only to realize with embarrassment that I was three dollars short. He had the chair ready for me when I told him my predicament as I turned to leave. He said, "No, you go ahead and get your haircut because you probably won't make it back in time today." So I did. Afterward, I rushed out to the nearest ATM and got the money to pay him, thanking him again. Now, how often does something like that happen with my generation? Not very often I would say.