Evening star., 1945-11-15

because ] don't henrs McLemores
know a thing about them. /
wouldn't recognize an atomic bomb
IL 1t walked into my living
room, drew up chair, and
asked for a cigarette. I have
never met a Yugoslav, so I feel
bit reluctant to tell Yugoslays how
to run their lives. England's social
reforms belong to the English, in
sofar as am concerned, and you
can bet 100 to / that I don't know
enough about Italy to go around
giving advice on how 1t should be
handled.
You can get that from other
newspaper writers. For every prob
lem, that confronts the world, there
are five newspaper columnists ready
to solve 1t.
Know All the Answers.
Columnists who have never been
elected to office, know all the an
swers for off1ceholders, including
the President of the United States.
Columnists who can't even spell
uranium. wear out their typewriters
telling the people what should be
done with the A-bomb, and col
umnists who are back in their rent,
pose as authorities on housing.
Actually, it is getting so that
columnists think they have a d.
vine mission to tell the world and
its peoples what to do, what to
think. wear, sing and eat. I don't
care to shoulder any such response
bility. I am not that smart. I am
not that bold.
That Is why I am going to write
about BARRIERS today. I do know
about the barber shop and what
happens when you 60 into one. You
know, in this changing world there
are only a few things that remain
steadfast. The drugstore sandwich
is one. The first drugstore sand
wich ever to be made Is exactly like
the one you get today. Dry, thin,
tasteless, costing 10 or Is cents, and
not worth 1t. Science has never
touched drugstore sandwiches. Nei-
ther has 1t touched BARRIERS and their
manner of giving haircuts.
The first time I ever got a hair
cut, and the same must be true of
all men, I sat on plank across the
arms of the barber chair. That
happened to me in Rochelle, Ga,
and most of the hair that was cut
OF my head went down my back
and itched.
Lotions and Potions.
The last time got a haircut (yes-
terday) most Of the hair that was
removed went down my back and
itched. There was no change. The
first barber I ever visited put q
towel and paper napkin around
my neck, to kid me into thinking
that not hair would get below my
collar. The last barber did the same.
The first barber, after he had oper-
ated on me for a few minutes, spun
the chair, aimed me toward the mir
ror, and said. How does that look?
Suit you, SOM" The only difference
yesterday was that the barber called
me "sir" instead of "son." Why does
a barber ask you II what he has
done suits you? Can anything
change 1t? Does he plan to replace
the hair he has shipped on, and
start over?
Years ago, at the conclusion Of
my first haircut, the barber douseo
me with evil-scented lotions anc
potions and busted me with powder
that made me look like a ghost anC
smell worse. So did the barber ol
yesterday. The fact that / told hin
I didn't want to leave his placs
smelling like badly kept rock gar.
den did no good. He whacked me
with lilac, smacked me with wis
terra, and whisked me with genuin,
imitation carnation, and respectful.
ly stood by for his tip.
From the barber shop I went t,
Central Park, sat down by Mr.. Ba,
ruch on a bench, and asked hin
what could be done about the world
i He said he didn't know-that h,
!. would have to read the daily col
j umns before making up his mind.
distributed by McNaught Syndicate Inc,