My Oldman use to get his haircut at Joe Dells Barbershop in downtown Oak Park. I got my haircut at Walter’s on the Oak Park side of Roosevelt Road near East Avenue.
Joe Dell became a dear friend with my father and his last wife. Even though Joe became a family friend I preferred Walter’s for my haircut.
Walter was a big German man who had a deep accent and would give you a neck massage after every haircut. He had one of those old school electric massagers that strapped to his hand and vibrated. I loved that one minute of deep relaxation.
Walter also had a stack of Playboys in his barbershop. I forgot to mention Joe Dell was gay and had two women working in his other chairs. Joe did not have Playboys laying around in his barbershop.
Back when I lived in Indianapolis I was a latchkey kid who had a checking account at Merchants Bank. It was a junior account, but I was able to cut Hugh Hefner a check every three months. Since I got home before my mom, I had a subscription to Playboy at the age of fourteen. Those sport magazines with Walter Payton and Willie Stargell were immediately replaced.
I was well aware of the magic the magazine had by the time I started getting haircuts down on Roosevelt Road. The centerfold was easy to prop up against a couple pillows and stare at for a quick seven minutes. Sure was better than the Farrah Fawcett poster I had up on the wall.
I soon realized that there was more to Playboy than just boobs and bush.. and back then there was a lot of bush.
This is where you laugh and call…….. “Bullshit Jumbo!”
I honestly read the articles, the interviews, the album reviews and specifically the “Men’s” column by Asa Baber. His eight hundred to one thousand word article was a playbook into manhood.
He talked about everything from manners, to masturbation, to etiquette, to dating, to intercourse and all things in between. It was a man’s guide for being a man. Since I was just getting pubed over myself, it was a fascinating education into the next chapter of life.
I got home from a visit to Chicago and laying on the dining room table was my next issue of Playboy. My mom never said a thing.
Walter closed his shop sometime in the early part of the millennium. No more flattops, neck massages and no more vintage Playboys.
I still have a vintage collection, but instead of my mom catching me I gotta make sure Hazel doesn’t find them. She would bust my chops in a New York second.
Playboy magazine is the perfect time capsule for the second half of the twentieth century. Out of all those old editions laying around Walter’s Barbershop… I’d always go to the one from 1971 that had an interview with Dick Butkus. My boyhood idol…
Seems like it’s going to be a dreary Sunday. Tomorrow will be manic and Tuesday will be in a daydream. I sure could go for a neck massage at Walter’s. Life was much easier when mom made dinner while I was laying next to Miss August 1981. That was Debbie Boostrom and she was 37.5/23/34. She loves lobster dinners and jacuzzi’s….
I gotta go!
