After a few minutes I decided - let's talk about hair and haircuts.
OK I'll admit it. I don't have all that much left now but over the years I have avoided all trends in hair. A fashionista I am not.
As I grew up my hair was carefully regulated - firstly by my parents who insisted on it being of a reasonable length and my grandmother vowing to disown me if I became what she referred to as a hobbledehoy (I have mentioned this before). To her a definition of a hobbledehoy was anyone who had long hair.
Then when I went to the Norwich School there were strict rules about hair length. It couldn't be over the collar and sideburns had to end no more than halfway down the ear.
My main problem is I had fly-away hair. A wisp of wind would send it all over the place. It was always quite long at the front and got in my eyes and at times I just couldn't see. Crazy thing was this annoyed me but I was never bright enough to realise that if I had it cut short at the front the problem would immediately go away.
I never followed trends although when I left school and went to journalism college I let it grow - as did all the other males on the course. It was the days of long hair. I have a few photos of myself with long almost shoulder length hair. One day in a future blog I will feature some of the pics when I can find them that is.
Growing up I remember going quite regularly to a barbers in a private house on Reepham Road in Hellesdon somewhere close to Hastings Avenue. There Mr Whitlam the hairdresser did a good impression of a pudding basin haircut. He was quite an elderly man and no doubt had served in the war when haircuts were very very short. What with having the demon barber at one end of the road and the deadly dentist Mr Anson at the other, it wasn't a barrel of laughs growing up around there!
It always amused me when the authorities (whoever they were) railed against long hair and then were equally aggressive when everyone had a buzz cut, skinhead or whatever you wanted to call something just a touch above a full shaved head.
My grandfather and father were both almost totally bald so I knew my hair had a relatively short lifespan, but I do still have some, now always cut short.
Over the years I have had a number of different barbers/hairdressers from family friends to quite expensive Norwich salons.
One year on holiday in Turkey I went to a local barbers shop there and what an experience that was. Not only did I get a haircut but they attacked my nose and ear hair with a flamethrower - well a small thing that was on fire anyway. Then I get an arm and head message, a cup of very sweet lemon tea and a cigar (the latter of which I turned down). All this cost me about £7 I seem to remember although it was many years ago.
Strangely enough on the subject of barbers I saw a photograph on a Norwich Remembers site of Donald Boore who was one (a barber that is). When we first moved to Hethersett we knew Donald pretty well as he was one of the village's leading lights - being a parish councillor and involved in many other areas. Donald had retired and until now I never realised he was a barber. Hope you enjoy the picture of Donald here.