, back to

An Adventure of Mine*

The Photographer's Haircut
  a.k.a. effective communications.
 
THE PHOTOGRAPHER
 
Once upon a time I was younger, much younger.  I was more carefree, daring, invincible, ... (all the usual attributes of youth.) 
 
I grew up on a farm in the Midwest. As I graduated from high school, I had acquired a interest in photography.  When I got to college my interest in photography really blossomed.  I was interested in all aspects of it: Taking the pictures, developing them in the dark room, mixing of the various chemicals, mounting and framing of the prints.  I even got interested in how the human brain and the eye work together to provide us with the images we see.
 
I loved to shoot landscapes, buildings, action shots, portraits -- and my favorite category was fashion photos.  In fact, there were a couple of times that I struggled with whether to continue my Engineering studies or pursue a career in fashion photography.  Engineering always won out and photography was left of be a hobby.
 
I became very active in the Camera Club on campus, and had a weekend dance photography business on the side.  I spend many nights in the club darkroom until the wee hours of the morning - sometimes finishing just in time for breakfast. 
 
Each quarter the Camera Club held a "Model Shoot."  In the Winter it was held in the large recreational hall.  In the Spring and Fall, we usually went to a local city park or the state park nearby. 
 
THE SUMMERTIME
 
During the summers I worked as a carpenter building houses in my small hometown.  I was earning money to help support my college education (or maybe it was to support my hobby expenses, I don't remember exactly.)
 
Now, in small rural towns, they normally "roll up the sidewalks" at 6pm every night -- except Saturdays.  On Saturday nights, the farmers came into town and the stores stayed open until 9pm.
 
One Saturday evening, as a bunch of us were just hanging around town, I noticed a very attractive blond sitting in a car across the street. 
"Who it that?" I asked. 
 
"Oh, she works at the bank," someone explained.  "Her husband has the new barbershop next door here.  They live in the next town about 10-miles down the highway.  They commute together to work each day.  On Saturdays, however, the bank closes at noon so she drives home and then comes back to get her husband when he closes his shop at nine o'clock."
 
"I'll see you fellows later," I said and walked across the street towards the car where the barber's wife was sitting.
 
THE BANK TELLER
 
Walking up to the open car window, I introduced myself.  I explained that I was a student at the State University and did some photography on the side.  I told her I would be interested in having her model for me.
 
She seemed flattered and interested in the idea.  But she said, "I'll have to ask my husband first."
 
"Of course," I said. 
 
When I got my paycheck the next week, I promptly went to the bank to deposit it.  I made certain I got in the line at her teller window.
 
When it was my turn, I handed her my check and deposit slip.  Then I asked, as casually as I could, "Have you had an opportunity to ask your husband?"
 
"Yes," she said, "but he said, 'No'"
 
As I left the bank, I thought to myself, "What a dummy I am.  What did I expect.  He is not an idiot.  He does not know me or anything about me."
 
THE HAIRCUT
 
For years now, I had been going to the same barber for my haircuts.  I had had no reason to change ... until now.  The next time I needed a haircut, I walked into the new barbershop. 
 
I sat down and waited patiently -- nervously trying to read a magazine.  When my turn came, I climbed into the barber chair.  I found that this new barber was pretty friendly - and quite talkative. 
 
As he cut my hair, it came out -- without me saying a word -- that he knew what kind of car I drove, where I went to school, who I worked for, and which house we were currently building.
 
And then it came time for him to trim around my ears.  He pickup up the long, straight razor and gave it a couple of slaps along the sharpening leather. 
 
As he reached over and grabbed my ear, he said, "I understand you have an interest in photography."
 
Not a single negative word was spoken.  The communications was 100% effective.
 
EPILOGUE
 
The barber's wife never posed for me.  I finished the summer building houses and let photography take a vacation.  When Fall came, it was back to school for me ... with both ears. 
-30-

This page maintained by  The Storyteller
Member  TIC Society
Last updated * 2021-03-24

X25-CSID
Copyright © 2006-2018 DMLK Enterprises
All Rights Reserved