Back in the City. Met up with Sean and we hung out at Hudson River watching the world go by. Practice for when we get old and have nurses. It is a beautiful day and everyone was out. Some great sightseeing and peoplewatching.
Sean asked me if I would go with him to get a haircut. What?! Go with you? What for? You see I hate getting my haircut. I hate sitting there, I hate telling them what I want. I hate the hair down the back. I hate having to look at that mirror when they show the back of my head and having to go "Okay" like I know. I hate it all. Much akin to the dentist for me. So I think watching someone else getting a haircut would be almost as painful.
He told me it would take 10 minutes. And I guess it did.
Here is my "blogumentary" I call "Sean Gets a Haircut."
[for the full effect take a whole 10 minutes scrolling down. Put on slow, tension-filled music.)
Establishing shot: A small barbershop on Christopher Street in the Village.
Sean with the master. Sitting for the BEFORE picture.
What an unruly mop of golden curls. How ever is this going turn out?~ Let's begin.
HEAR the frantic brrrrrrrrrr of the clipping shears, feel the tension in the waiting. And the audience, while itching to see the finished haircut, wonders "Who is Humberto?" (this will be my "Rosebud.")
A zoom-in on the tools of the trade. Knock it off! Enough with the fancy shots, I can't handle the waiting, the anticipation!!! OMG!!!
Et voila! Shorn and ready for summer. Hairdresser stands back, way back. To give the haircut room?
Barber dares cameraman to have a problem with his work. "Hey Buddy, I don't. It's cool. Don't hurt me!"