We have been wintering down here in LaBelle now for four months and my wife said she was embarrassed about the length of my hair. She stated that she did not care to be seen with me and it was either a haircut or a divorce and I was hoping the haircut was cheaper.

So, up north, where we come from, we have these hair cutting places that do things a little different then here. When you walk into the place you have to first register by computer and then you sit down in a custom barco lounger for a bit until your number is called. They have big screen TVs all over the place so you can watch a variety of teams and sports you could care less about, although the Brazilian female topless soccer team did pique my interest so to speak.

After you are summoned you are placed in your custom hair cutting seat (it’s a little too fancy to call it a barber chair) and they slap a hot towel around your neck and they give you a little back rub. It’s all included. Now if I had to label this northern establishment somehow, I would call it the Hooters of Haircutting. By the way, I feel bad that these poor women have to wear t-shirts that are two or three sizes too small. I was tempted to increase my tip a bit so they could buy something that fit better and had a little more room in it. Now all of what I have stated here is for real. Yes, I have been known to exaggerate a bit in these columns but this is all fact, or at least most of it.

Anyway, these highly trained cutters of hair are conversation wunderkind. They’ll ask you all kinds of questions to get the conversation rolling and away you go. They’ll fuss about you and snip a little here and trim a little there. Sometimes they’ll even remember to cut your hair. And they do a pretty good job but it’s hard to gauge, after all it’s just a damn haircut.

I’m not saying that the experience was expensive but I did have to take out a second mortgage to pay for it including tip. And my wife is questioning my sudden interest in Brazilian soccer.

So we have been down here in Florida for a while and I was getting a little shaggy. If Rod Stewart and Phyllis Diller were to have a love child, well that would be me. So I went to the local barber here in LeBelle and the experience was just a tad different. I entered the establishment and as all the barber chairs were full, I found a seat. It was a hard, stiff straight backed chair with no lounger to be found anywhere in the room. I looked for a computer to register but in its place there was a nice set of checkers. And across the back wall was a great set of Jeep grills. And being a Jeep owner that is something I really appreciate. After a brief wait I was called to my chair and waited for my neck towel. The neck towel did not appear.

I enquired as to whether or not I would be getting a back massage and the barber looked at me, rolled her eyes and said to her fellow technician, “I think he may be one of those.” I waited for the creative banter to begin and again I was disappointed. But a guy two chairs down had some interesting observations on pig farming.

Anyway to make a long story short, she did a great job at about half the price I would pay up north. I guess I could learn to live without the neck massage. And I can get Brazilian soccer on the intra-net.