Barber

by B.J. Carter
Coastal Journal staff

I was born in Brooklyn to an Irish immigrant, and some time after that I was adopted by a New York City policeman and his wife.  Apparently he had an accident, so we had to move up into the Catskill Mountains onto a dairy farm. 

How old were you when you moved to the Catskills?

Three.  I was born in 1939, right after the Depression.  There were just a few people working on and around the farm, we lived in one of the big houses up there.

Did you have brothers and sisters?

I had a brother and sister, they were both adopted from different families.  Different religions, too.  At the time, whichever religion you were born into was the one you observed until you changed it on your own.  I grew up Catholic, and my brother and sister were both raised Protestant.

That must have been interesting.

Yeah, it was [laughs].  I never believed I was adopted, but of course, if you look at pictures now . . . It’s kind of like that Steve Martin movie?  The one where he’s adopted?

The Jerk?  That’s a great movie!

Yeah [laughs].

You said you went into the Navy after high school?

That’s right, I served for 23 years.  I retired in 1983, that’s how I wound up in Brunswick.

Did you cut hair in the Navy?

No, I was an air traffic controller.  I spent a lot of time in the Pacific, Puerto Rico, the Bahamas.  I was fortunate enough to be on an aircraft carrier in Vietnam . . . if you can call that fortunate.  And of course I spent 11 years in Brunswick.

Of all those places, which made the biggest impression?

I think Brunswick, Maine.

Why?

I just like the small-town atmosphere.  I don’t like crowds. 

At what point in your life did you become aware of Maine as a place you might want to live?

Actually, my folks had their honeymoon in Maine, they spoke of it very highly when I was growing up.  I came the first opportunity I got - that was in 1967, I’ve been here ever since, more or less.

Do you know where in Maine they honeymooned?

No, but it was probably somewhere on the coast.

When you first got to Maine, what was your perception of it?

It just seemed like the place I wanted to be.  When I brought my wife up here, she said she didn’t want to leave.  So far so good.

Where is she from?

A place called Lackawack, New York, and I’m from Kerhonkson, which means “Land of the Flying Geese.”  Pretty much hillbillies up there.

How did you meet her?

She’s a nurse, I met her when my father was dying in the hospital.  You lose one, you gain one, I guess.

Do you have children of your own?

We have a son who’s 37 and a daughter who’s 30.  She lives in Massachusetts, she’s given us four beautiful grandchildren.

Let’s talk about how you got yourself into cutting hair.

This is going to sound ridiculous, but I first got the idea of cutting hair from watching [Archie] Campbell on “Hee-Haw.”  At that point I’d been in the Navy 20 years and didn’t see much chance of making Chief Petty Officer, which I had to do to stay in.  I had an opportunity to go to barber school in Lewiston while I was still in the Navy, I got my license, and as soon as I retired I opened this shop here.  That was 25 years ago.  I was very fortunate.

In popular culture barber shops are always portrayed as really social places where people read the newspaper and catch up on local gossip, that kind of thing.  Has it ever been like that here?

At this point, the clientele is mostly people my age.  We like to gripe about the good ‘ole days.

Have you ever made anyone cry because they didn’t like their haircut?

[Laughs] Not that I’m aware of, but I’m sure there have been some detractors.  As long as they pay me, they’re good customers.

Why do you think some people get so emotionally attached to their barbers?

I know I myself have a particular barber that I like to go to, a young lady up in Norway; she does it exactly the way I want it, so that’s who I go to.  As for my customers, I’ve been told that I’m very gentle, which is very important.  It’s easy to fall asleep in a barber’s chair, it should be a very soothing process.  If it isn’t, you’re doing something wrong.

You ever have people tell you things they probably shouldn’t while they’re sitting in that chair?

Absolutely.  The proper way to deal with that is to maintain confidentiality.  If you start sharing their information with the other customers then they’ll start to wonder if you talk about them when they’re not there, too.  I’m not a psychiatrist, but that level of trust is important.

Do you feel like you have a relationship, beyond the service you provide, with some of your more loyal customers?

I try not to make personal relationships with them.  I like people but in very short doses.  My mother always said I should’ve been a hermit [laughs].

Tough to make a living that way, though.

Well, I also work on the Maine turnpike as a toll collector.  That’s another great job because you get to interact with a lot of people but very, very briefly. 

I think you’re probably the first toll collector I’ve ever met.  Which shift do you usually work?

I’m classified as an “on call” collector, so I work whenever they need me to.  I usually work on the Gardiner part of the turnpike.

And you like it?

I love it.  It pays pretty well and they like me, I do the job they ask me to do.  I also drive school buses. 

How long do you plan to do those things?

There’s a man named Mr. Hill who lives in Brunswick, and when people ask him when he’s going to retire he says, “You’ll see my name in the obituaries.”

[Laughs] Fair enough.