Being that tomorrow is my 60th birthday….whew…..How the hell did that happen..I thought it might not be a bad idea to get a haircut. So I headed out to the local Barbers Shop here in Aloha Oregon to get my ears lowered. When I got there I saw I was in luck, the lady cutting hair was just finishing up so I would not have to wait long. I also noticed the gal working today was not the usual person that worked there, then I remembered she had told me she was pregnant and might be taking some time off. I should mention at this point the lady working today was of Mexican descent, no biggie in my mind, but I forgot I live in trump’s America now.
So I took my glasses off and sat in the Barber’s chair. So my stylist asked how I wanted my hair done and I replied, just use a number 3 and trim it up to match. I also asked if she could patch in the bald spot on the top of my head. She got a pretty good smile out of that. So she started in on getting my hair cut.
After a minute or so I started in with my small talk, I have always tried to enjoy the small moments in life and the people I meet to share them with, one of my usual questions is, “Where do you live?” Pretty basic question to break the ice……not anymore in trump’s fascist state.
All of the sudden the smile left her face and she hesitated for a moment, then very quietly said, “I came from Mexico”. I have never felt so ashamed of my Country at that moment. Not wanting to leave a moment like that hanging, I immediately said, “No no, where do you live now?” You could see and feel the tension leave her face, and she replied, “I live in Canby, I have been there for 20 years now.”
Having lived in Oregon most of my life I knew Canby well, so I asked her a question already knowing the answer, “So is Canby still a little one horse town?” She laughed at that one and said, “It is growing way to fast, do you remember that field near the main drag, all houses now.” I told her how 50 years ago the main drag through Canby used to be a freeway to get to the eastern part of Portland when you were traveling North.
After that we talked about our kids for a few minutes and my haircut was done. If I say so myself, she did a great job and I was almost distinguished looking. As I have always done there, I gave her a twenty for the good work and told her to keep the change. She smiled and said “Thank you very much!!!” In the back of my mind I had this terrible thought, a thought I have never had before, but I was hoping she knew the tip was for a good haircut and better conversation. Nothing else, just that. It just sucked that that thought had entered my mind.
To finish this story I just have to say, what the Hell has happened to our Country when people look and are afraid to say where they came from, and how this ruining us in so many ways. The fascist in control of our Country have made this one of their top priorities, and they are doing a damn fine job of it.
This is not what I served my Country for, and it will not stand. I do have faith the majority of people living here now will get things going in the right direction again. I truly do believe that. It may not happen by my next haircut, but it will happen while I still have hair to cut!!