Barber Shop Talk. Fathers.

Preface

My professor of English literature once told me. If I'm every blocked up and can't write, just write and let it flow.

Rough draft writing. Thank you, Mr. Dinielli, also an Air Force Veteran.

This post is about intimate memories of my Irish father, an Army veteran. Whom just recently passed away from dementia.

The past year COVID 19-CIRCA 2020, has been challenging for all of us, meaning the whole world is going through tough times, together. After 14 years, I am finally, able to talk about the strange deaths that occurred around my mother’s attempted murder and cover up. Then the world shuts down because of COVID 19. The same thing happened (the world shut down,) when I came out to California in 2008.

Wow talk about the irony. In 2008, I was so traumatized about the events surrounding my mother’s attempted murder, that I became distant and literally stopped talking to everyone. Since I did everything right, including going to the police and the media, I did not know who to trust, it made me over analyze ever person, their family, and friends. Mental exhaustion led to physical exhaustion, and I could hardly function in daily life. I already broke both legs and an arm during college and rebounded, but loss of trust in the people close to you and loss of trust in the system designed to protect you was almost too much to handle.

Through it all, I realized that I need to practice self-love and to do what is in the best interest for me (while still being good to others). Self-Love to me, means taking care of yourself mentally, physically, and emotionally. Firing those people in your life (because you are the C.E.O. of your life), that are not good for you and moving on to people who you trust, people that make your life better, the way you want to live. One of the promises that I made to myself as a part of self-love was to always be honest. Another promise was to never stop giving people “a” chance, because good friendships, good relationships, and sharing is what makes our world a beautiful place.

Barbershop Talk

One of the many experiences that men go through, sort of a rite of passage, is a trip to the barber shop.

The barbershop is a place similar to women’s beauty and nail salons, where men go to get their hair did (expertly cut), a shave and to maintain/transform into our best version of ourselves. Usually, because we are trying to look presentable or sharp for the women in our lives. It is also a place to shoot the shit (gossip, feminine communication) and catch up to find out what everyday people think about, what is really going on in this crazy world around us. During college, I went to this barbershop around U.S.C. and Tone Loc was a customer (the best local news available).

My first trip to the barber shop was with my grandfather and father, after our family arrived from Taiwan. My mother kept my hair long, as is normal with Chinese customs, but my grandfather served in the Navy during WWII as a warrant officer in charge of the weapons and afterwards served in the California Highway Patrol. Thus, my hair was way too long and way too girly. FYI, he did not like my dad’s long hippie hair, either. That long hair problem was fixed when my father was drafted into service for the U.S. Army during the Vietnam war. “Damn hippies,” he would say aloud when my dad put on Jimmie Hendrix and Led Zeppelin on the way to the barber shop. You can fix the hair, but you can never change the love of music!

I wanted dad to “look good and feel good”, after weeks of being in critical care nursing, so we headed to the barber shop. We also had a tough day ahead of us because, we needed to sign power of attorney forms for his health care, finances, and everything else in life. This meant a lot of deep conversations about death, quality of care, and what to do when what you planned on working does not happen. Research studies show that music can help calm people with dementia by providing an emotional connection with memory and music. Like when you hear that one song on the radio and you can remember that “one kiss, one love, one concert” connected with that one song. So, of course when dad got into the car, with walker and senior bags, I turned on Youtube music with Jimmie Hendricks. Instant memory connection and a Jimmie Hendricks concert in the car with the windows down, sunroof open, head bobbing, and radio tuned up so loud you cannot hear when you are done.

By the time we reached Dale’s barber shop in Chino, we had already chatted in detail about the concerts that he went to, the concerts he wished he had gone to, and current/future technological advances in society (how I played his favorite music via Youtube in my car). My dad worked on microwaves technology during the Vietnam war (the precursor to our current smart cell phones) and was a technology professor after retiring from the Army. We would hypothesize about new technology and potential markets while I was in high school. So, it felt good to move from conversations on “how do I put my shoes on?”, back to deep intellectual conversations about the science behind 5g technology and Elon Musk’s smart move of creating high speed internet in the sky.

Once in the Barbershop, Dale greeted my dad by name like an old friend that you haven’t seen for years, but once you see them, it is back to being best buddies again. He said he would take my dad, after his current customer. There was a Mexican lady working in the other chair, a Spanish looking guy sitting around, and an older surfer, California blonde, white guy in Dale’s chair. The shooting of shit began once we started talking about racism, Biden, and Donald Trump. The older white guy didn’t get it. That he didn’t see racism going on in today’s society and that he “was always taught to be color blind,” and I said “exactly.” I was taught the same way, but really what color-blind means, is that you are blind to how people of color are treated unfairly and in a racist manner, meaning you wouldn’t treat your own family that way. So, I related the story of my Chinese mother and her German husband and how she and I didn’t receive justice, because we are Chinese and the process and outcome would have been different, if I was 100% white. He still did not get it and politely left once his hair cut was finished.

My father chimed in "he felt bad about the way African Americans are treated," especially because he served with them in the Army as brothers and he also saw that they are treated dramatically different in the south, when he lived in Georgia. I asked my father “weren’t you ever worried about me growing up being Chinese and small” when we were in Georgia? My mother is 5’1 and before I grew into my huge 6’2 200+ pound frame, I was tiny and I got into fights all the time from the southern boys starting shit with me. He said “yes.” I remarked, "it sucked having to worry about my safety every single day, remember my children will be Chinese and will always be Chinese, it is not a choice, and is not dependent on the race of the person that I marry."

Then Dale told us about his time in Georgia. He moved from the Bronx to Georgia with his blue-eyed blonde wife, back to where she grew up. Once he and his wife were driving along a country road and two guys pulled up alongside his truck and asked him, “what are you a nigger?” Dale, just happened to have his rifle on his seat, so he picked it up and said, “what does it matter?” The guys drove away. Later that night, he heard gun shots and went outside. There were a bunch of guys in his yard with guns that said, “we don’t like your kind around here.” He closed the door, the next day he moved back to the Bronx.

At the end of his story, Dale remarked, “I understand you and I get it.”

On the way home from the barbershop, my dad turned to me and said, “I get it, I understand now”.

I am so proud of you dad. It is awesome when you can really understand another person’s point of view. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks. I know you are going through some really tough times right now, but I love you and I will do everything in my power to make sure you are taken care of and living the life that you deserve.

I would not be alive today, if you hadn’t have served in the Army.

Your service in the U.S, Army is an example of self-sacrifice for the greater good. While I hated the instability of the military family life, constantly having to meet new friends every four years. It taught me to be courageous, friendly, and to be open to new experiences and people. I also learned to appreciate other people's culture and food through your service in Korea, Germany, Arizona, and Georgia. While you were away, I counted the days until you came home and I was always excited to see you, to hear about your experiences, and to see the new and unfamiliar/foreign items that you brought back from your journeys.

You are a U.S. Army Veteran, which was your job. But the best job that I remember you by is my Dad. I'm proud to honor you with this post.

Dale’s Barber shop is an old school barber shop in an older part of town, located on Central Avenue in Chino CA, one block south of the 60 freeway. From what I was told, he shares the shop with two Spanish/Latin ladies and from his personal stories and demeanor, he is a supporter of women’s rights and civil rights. Dale is also Italian, by the way, I guessed on the first try (and a Yankee). If you are in the area, looking for a good hair cut with friendly staff, and a great price, stop by Dale’s!

Please note. Just because I think Elon Musk's internet in the sky is a great idea. I do not agree with his belief in white supremacy or his political views. If you take over Twitter then fire democrats, that is reinforcement of white supremacy.

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The pictures of your journey and our memories together were touched up using google photos editor. It is free right now and includes tons of storage.