Just a little more off the side....... By: Danny's Girl Everyone who knows Dan, knows that his appearance seldom changes. When he does changes something it is barely perceptible - a different belt, a new brand of jeans, laces instead of buckles on his boots. Since the age of sixteen Dan has left his home in a t-shirt with sleeves hastily rolled three times, an antique razor blade hanging around his neck, jeans rolled at the bottom, black leather boots, belt, and chained wallet in his right rear pocket. That Dan's hairstyle has not changed in the past decade has been commented on many times as his friends hairstyles change from green mohawks to more conservative business cuts. Every month since 1988, Dan's unchanging thick mass of black curls (gelled daily into submission), has been maintained by Goldwin, a Canadian barber on East Colfax.

Everyone who knows Dan, knows that his appearance seldom changes. When he does changes something it is barely perceptible - a different belt, a new brand of jeans, laces instead of buckles on his boots. Since the age of sixteen Dan has left his home in a t-shirt with sleeves hastily rolled three times, an antique razor blade hanging around his neck, jeans rolled at the bottom, black leather boots, belt, and chained wallet in his right rear pocket. That Dan's hairstyle has not changed in the past decade has been commented on many times as his friends hairstyles change from green mohawks to more conservative business cuts. Every month since 1988, Dan's unchanging thick mass of black curls (gelled daily into submission), has been maintained by Goldwin, a Canadian barber on East Colfax.

This year Goldwin made the difficult and painful decision to retire. This came as a shock to Dan, who prefers that the world he lives in remain fairly predictable and within his control. He also considered this man to be a dear friend and a genuinely good man. He put off his next hair cut for as long as possible, fearing bad hairstylists and hoping that Goldwin would magically reconsider. Eventually Dan could put it off no longer. His irritation with his unruly locks had surpassed his resistance to try a new barber.

Just two blocks from our home is a small barbershop with three or four barbers. He has gone there, begrudgingly for three of his last five haircuts. The cuts he received at the new barbershop were fine but the ever-present sports broadcasts and the general tone of the shop were annoying and he resented having to go there every month. This annoyance led to him letting me cut his hair once with trimmers and another time he trimmed it himself. These two cuts turned out miraculously well given our lack of professional training.

Yesterday, Dan was having a particularly bad hair day. So, immediately following a very late breakfast, he walked down to the barbershop. They were closed. Dan spent the next hour pulling on his hair and cursing the world. In desperation he consented to risk Supercuts. We jumped in the car and speed to the nearest one. They informed him that all of their time slots were full. "Let's just go home", he said in a defeated tone. Determined to make the day better, I drove us to the next strip mall only to be taunted by a Great Clips that had closed an hour earlier. I surrendered and we returned home.

Once there, Dan took the clippers to his head. After five minutes, he asked for assistance. I agreed, feeling rather confident that the last haircut I gave him was acceptable. After the first round of trimming he said it wasn't short enough. After the second round of trimming, he said it was still a bit too long. I cautiously set the trimmers to their lowest setting and.... Ooops! Y'know the hair that covers your temples? Too short. When Dan looked in the mirror, I burst into a fit of inappropriate laughter and he nearly screamed. The solution: "Now we have to shave my entire head!" he exclaimed.

I started with the sides and the back, leaving a large circle on the top of his head still long. That looked ridiculous but by this time we were having fun (in a "post-traumatic stress syndrome" sort of way).

The next incarnation was a mohawk.

Slowly but surely all of his hair fell to the floor, creating a thick black carpet and covering us both in those bits of stubble like hair that requires soap and water to remove it from your skin.

We have spent the past twelve hours staring at his head. At the rate Dan's hair grows, it will probably be long again before we are used to it. Who knows what radical and unpredictable thing Dan will do next? Sneakers? A mustache?
Decaf? Yeah, right!

A movie of the haircut in action, for your viewing pleasure