Hair Cuts

I once heard a comedian refer to someone as "the kind of guy who cuts his own hair". I laughed. I'm that guy. Part of it is that I'm socially awkward enough that it's difficult for me to try and tell someone what sort of haircut I want. I have no idea, just shorter, and good looking. I don't know, they're the ones that cut hair for a living, why won't they ever tell me what sort of hair cut I should get? It's too much.
The other part is that I'm fantastically cheap about some things. I generally don't mind paying for things, objects, but I hate paying for services. I don't mind paying $10 a pound for good steak, but I'll be damned if I'm going to pay extra for it at a restaurant just because someone else cooks it and washes the dishes. I change my own oil, mow my own lawn, do my own drywall work, and I cut my own hair.

I took my oldest son for one haircut before I decided that I could do it myself. I could save $15 and not have to deal with trying to describe how I wanted my son's hair to look to someone who seemed to be judging my haircut and trying to figure out how such a beautiful kid came from such a weird looking guy. I started by giving hair cuts with scissors. This was greatly facilitated by the fact that my oldest son has curly hair. It's a lot harder to screw up a haircut when the hair is curly and wild anyway. I finally spent the $30 and bought a set of electric clippers with the different guards for height. The haircuts got a bit more consistent, but most importantly they got a lot faster. You can only get kids to sit still for so long and you don't want to have to send them to preschool with a half cut head of hair.
I know this won't last forever. Eventually my sons will discover that having your dad give you a haircut in the kitchen isn't cool. For the time being though, I'm going with it. I'm saving money, saving time, and making stories that my sons and I can tell for years to come. Not only am I the kind of guy who cuts his own hair, I'm the kind of guy who cuts his sons' hair too.

Book I finished this week:
The Bialy Eaters - Mimi Sheraton
Bialys are awesome. They're this small chewy onion topped roll that's sort of a cross between an english muffin and a bagel. They're even better than that though. On Tuesday I'll share a bialy recipe and admit that I can't make them as well as they should be made. One of the fascinating things about bialys is that their place of origin is well known. They come from Bialystok Poland. They were a bread baked and eaten by the local Jewish population. Bialystok is still there, but the Jews that baked them, and the bialys themselves aren't. The Germans and the Poles wiped out the Jews in Bialystok and with them went the bread that they baked and ate. Those that left, either before, during, or after that horrible time, took the knowledge of that bread with them. Mostly it's their memories of it, but in some places, it's bialys themselves. This book tells the story of the roll and the people connected with it. The author explores the current world of bialys and the connections it has with Bialystok. It's a fascinating and quick read. If you enjoy reading about food, it has to be on your list.