Saturdays

Saturdays are my float days. Now when I say Saturday is a float day it means it can take several different directions. Today I was supposed to go up north with my partner from work this weekend to help him fix his snowmobile but as luck would have it I came down with a bug, so here I am. Or Saturdays can be my clean house day (when you're single you only have to do that once a week unless company is expected, or laundry day, or supermarket day, or haircut day, or lawn mowing day, or special project day or the best of all, do nothing day.

Well as the fates would have it "do nothing day" was not in the cards. It's one thing when I'm out of food that's why God created pizza....but run out of cat food around here and your toes become an appetizer sometime around 2:00am. So damn the 16 degree weather, damn the fact that I feel like heck, out the door I go. Now as long as I was going out I decided to make it worth it so I grabbed a couple of prescriptions I needed refilled and then called my barber Joe to see if he had an opening. Now Joe has been cutting my hair since 1972 and we've been through a lot together, so I made no bones of telling him that I wasn't feeling well and if he'd rather I pass we can make it next week. He said "heck no, come in at 1:00" so since it was 12:15 I headed towards him first.

Now I hadn't had a haircut since a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving so I looked like a roadie for a rock band. Joe's seen my hair at every length imaginable from below the shoulder blades to mu Republican cut. He kids me that my hair grows faster than anybody he knows and always asks if I'm ready to get rid of a little of this gray I've earned. So he washed my hair then started to cut and we began talking about his business and the economy in general. Barbers, in case you didn't know it, are nothing more than sober bartenders. They always listen and rarely disagree but Joe isn't shy about letting his point of view be known on a topic. I always ask him if he's doing ok and still cutting his regular customers hair if they fell on hard times. He replies I cut two or three guys a week and don't charge them because they've been long time customers.

Now the thing is I believe Joe when he tells me this because there was a time many years ago I stopped in to get a haircut and I paid him for it, then said "Joe I usually give you a tip and I'm sorry but things are tight right now, so I can't". Joe smiled, said "Barry don't worry about it" then handed me back my money. As he did he said "You and I have been down the road together so today it's on me, no arguments", I thanked him and walked out the door, dragging my pride behind me like a shadow.

Finally Joe is done, hold up the mirror and says we cut a ton of hair today. I thank him climb out of the chair and walk to the counter. He says "that'll be twenty dollars" and I hand him forty. He looks and says "do you want change"? I say "no Joe, just keep cutting hair for those guys that need it". Joe smiles and says "thanks Barry, see you in six weeks". Now Joe knows I'm no shooter nor am I rich, but he also knows that I've walked in their shoes, and if he can help them, then why shouldn't I.

From there I was off to the drive up window at Walgreen's, I dropped off my script's and head down pothole alley, Orchard Lake Road, headed for the Pet Supplies store. I walked in and saw this woman with a German Shepard and we exchanged hi's and I told her she had a beautiful dog. I petted the dog for a moment and headed for the cat food isle. Mentally I running through Fuzzy's menu for the week. Let's see; Monday-Turkey and Giblets, Tuesday-Salmon, Wednesday-Chicken, Thursday-Beef....wait she doesn't like beef....Seafood Feast....you get the point. The darn cat eats better than I do. I check out and head to Kroger's for a little human food.

Now Kroger is kind of the highlight of all this but I need to preface a portion of this by saying I' a baby boomer. A product of the 60's and 70's, free love, protests, bell-bottom jeans, tie-dyed tee shirts, Woodstock, never trust anyone over 30, ban the bra, hard rock and roll with a message generation and we've come a long way. Now, we are in our 50's and beyond, we don't trust anyone under 40, we think you look silly with eyebrow piercings and tattoo's, your music all has the same beat or rhythm, and you might want to mix in a comb on your hairstyles. We are still the last true rebels.

So I park at the back of the lot because it's good to walk when you get to my age, and besides because of all this global warming 20% of all the parking spots are filled with snow so it was the only place to park. I grab a basket that was left near by Jeep and push it towards the door. Mentally I'm running down my list through my head: hamburger for chili, onion, bread sticks, coffee, and as the sliding door opens to enter the store I get hit with the opening chord from "We Won't Get Fooled Again" by the Who.

I'm thinking...damn....that's sweet! So ahead I go strutting my stuff to the Who waltzing through the produce section feeling invincible. By the time I go over to the bread isle I was listening to "Hair" by the Cowsills, and I was certain at one point I sang out loud but I think I caught myself before anyone heard me. Onward I went from isle to isle, buying stuff I really didn't need, reliving my high schools day and thinking every few minutes...we did that song.

Now all the while as I'm shopping, I'm looking around and just about anyone with a twinge of gray is pretty much bopping around the way I am. And I bet their thinking the same thing I am. Our music, our rock and roll, music we partied too, music we romanced too, music of a rebellious generation, relegated to canned music in a Kroger store. In the words of my friend Red " Who'd a thunk it"!!

So As I went through the self-serve checkout I made sure I didn't get real carried away, and think God I didn't find any Boonesfarm or Strawberry Hill in my basket. And as I pushed my basket to my car it dawned on my why I don't mind grocery shopping. For 35 minutes a week I get to jump into the way-back machine and relive some awesome memories.

Before you laugh, think about it? The Go-Go's, Boy George, Boys to Men all in your grocery store in another 10 years.