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For a long time, you had to go downtown to the theater to see cartoons. They had a long show on Saturday morning for the kids: a bunch of cartoons, a serial, a feature length movie, and some sort of contests possibly broadcast on the local radio station. The one I went to was called "Square Shooters Party". There was a competition to choose a kid to announce the show at the beginning. I won once and the prize I got was a free haircut. At a barber shop. I think that guy might have guessed that I had never been to a barber shop before. My father had always cut my hair before that. Either that or it didn't get cut. It was a new experience for me. For the barber, too. He had never seen so much hair on one head.
My father never cut my hair again.
i'm like you; i don't remember ever crying during a haircut. i did after i got older, when i was a teenager, and got a hack-job by an incompetent stylist. and once more, when i got a perm that would. not. quit. the 80's were rough on a girls hair.
I only cried when they were done and I looked in the mirror. IT was devastating and never what I ever wanted. TO this day, I cut my OWN hair.
i understand that feeling, yo.
now i have a 'live-in' stylist. =)
