Cowboy Boots and Haircuts

I used to think my dad was my ‘Cowboy Barber’. He didn’t act like a cowboy. He didn’t talk like a cowboy. He didn’t wear a cowboy hat, but he did have a pair of cowboy boots that he wore, and he told me that they were the most comfortable shoes he owned. 

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I remember the day he got his cowboy boots. My mother didn’t like cowboy boots, and I would have never had any if my Grandma Cazier hadn’t bought me a pair. But dad was a wise man.

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He saved the tips he earned and one Monday (his day off) he told my mom that he had an errand to run. He didn’t tell her where he was going or what he was going to do. He left and an hour or two later he returned. He walked in the house quietly, but I could tell from the smile on his face that he had purchased something that excited him.

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Mom was curious and when he opened the box she was surprised. In fact, I still remember her look when he opened the box and took out the cowboy boots that he had just purchased. All Mom did was laugh (I don’t know what she said in the privacy of their bedroom).

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But believe it or not this story isn’t about his boots. I included it to give you a flavor of his history of a farm kid and hence why I called him ‘my cowboy barber’. He was not educated, other than barber school. He didn’t make a lot of money. He didn’t brag or talk a lot. In fact, he was very much like his dad, a quiet man that knew how to listen.

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Dad started cutting my hair when I was a baby and he cut it regularly until I was 65 or so years old. In fact, if I were a betting man, I would wager that I only had 20-25 haircuts by someone who was not my dad. In fact, I am sure that he cut my hair more than anyone else’s. I estimate that in my lifetime I probably had more than 600 haircuts by him.

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As I think about my dad standing behind me cutting my hair, I can recreate many memories and a closeness that strengthens a father and son bond. I can still feel his hands massaging my head after he finished, hands that let me know that he loved me. 

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There were times when I was in his shop and there were many customers talking or reading his magazines. There were times when I would be waiting for my turn (he never let me butt in but if I was there before another customer, he would let me sit in the chair ahead of those behind me). 

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I remember many conversations the customers would have with dad. They would ask his advice and opinion on many varied topics. They would ask him questions about current events, politics, religion, tips on raising children, squabbles with neighbors, and many more. They were open with him because they trusted his wisdom and, more importantly, they knew that what they shared would stay with him.

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I experienced the same thing. While sitting in his chair I felt comfortable enough to talk to him about anything and I knew I would get valuable insight and our discussion would stay between us. He never judged me if I took his advice or if I made a different decision. He would never ask about it, figuring if I wanted him to know I would be the one to bring it up.

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Sometimes when Dad would cut my hair, there would be silence between us, neither of us feeling the need to speak. I would just sit there listening to the humming of the clippers or feeling his big gentle hands on my head. This simple act created a calmness in me and without verbalizing anything I felt his love and knew he was proud of me. 

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At other times I just wanted to close my eyes and relax and when I did, he respected this and quietly continued cutting my hair.

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Later in his life we moved Dad’s shop into a spare bedroom in his house, so I would go there to get a haircut. At this time in his life, Dad slowed down (I’m pretty sure it was intentional) and took at least 45 minutes to cut my hair. I realized that he was lonely and wanted to keep me around talking and visiting for as long as he could. And you know what? I enjoyed it. Today I recognize that being close to him sitting in his barber chair was special and provided an opportunity to create a unique bond that is still strong and vibrant and meaningful.

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We didn’t take many vacations and this time with him having my hair cut was priceless. We developed an understanding and caring for one another. It wasn’t a big event, but it was time well spent.

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As parents, do we have little rituals that we share with our children? It doesn’t have to be in the barbershop, but it could be as simple as sharing time with them. It could be taking a little walk and checking on their day. Perhaps they enjoy sports or music and finding time to share the experience with them. 

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The thing I learned from being with my dad in his barbershop was that whatever we choose to do it can be done once a month or every two weeks or even once a year (camping, attending a rodeo or whatever). The important thing is to start a tradition and do it. It will pay dividends to you and your children.


Happy failing forward,

Calvert Cazier  


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