Study

On the street: looks, grimaces, frowns, snide comments, finger pointing from cars. Finally I could stand it no longer --- I shaved and got a hair cut. The barber was a particularly persnickety guy of that 'class challenged' type so prevalent around the greater Chicago area in those days.
"Just a trim" - I say and he begins to clip.
It was a shop with about four barbers, three or four customers - an audience in Waukegan, Illinois.
"Oops, he goes, "I snipped a little too much. Going to have to even that out." "Oops I did it again."
And he did it again and again until I got a fairly short hair cut. I go - "that's ok - that's ok - that's ok".
Thought he was such a genius fixing the hippy. Probably bragged about that for years. I gave him a tip, just to confuse him and it did. However I have never gotten a haircut from a barber since --- cut my own --- and those guys don't hardly exist anymore. It was one of the particular reasons I left the Midwest for good. They had a habit there of being as mean as they could be and thinking this was, oh so intelligent and cute.

I took the Greyhound to San Francisco. My original intention was to go to California to establish residency for 'reduced cost free state education' and then proceed to travel to central and South America. I had no intention to go to Haight\Ashbury, but I met someone on the bus who lived there, and this person had some friends who put me up on the kitchen floor for a couple of nights until I found a place to rent. Well I felt I was at home --- what a place.

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