Tag Archives: Nostalgia

Welcome to Haircut Day

My most recent haircut day, 9/07/23

It all grew out of the pandemic. That is how the tradition started. Like many things in life, good and beautiful things can grow from our challenges. Often, I think that is why these obstacles come into our lives. That is true for haircut day and the monthly joy it brings.

You may or may not remember, but during the pandemic of 2020 it wasn’t easy to get a haircut anywhere. Every shop was closed, and we were just left to our own devices, and it was not something I liked. I have developed an affinity for a particular type of cut. High and tight, skin on the sides and two on the top. It doesn’t matter if you understand what that means, but it is essential that you know that I think it is the most comfortable, manageable, and best feeling cut there is. Imagine feeling the wind on your head or the hot water when you shower. It is amazing. Also, there is the zero maintenance factor. Other than during the pandemic, I hadn’t combed my hair in years. It is amazing!

I have the ability to grow hair, which many might envy. However, time has replaced the color of youth with the dreaded color of age, which can be depressing to look at. The shorter the hair, the less visible the gray is. It is a win for me, and I am less disappointed when I look in the mirror in the morning. All this took me to Farmington, Maine, at some point during the national crisis of 2020.

I looked around Augusta to get a cut, but all the places were closed or limited; it was like visiting Fort Knox to keep your head well-groomed. That is when I thought of the best haircuts I had ever gotten, and it made me think of Farmington, Maine.    I lived in Farmington in the late 1980’s and early 90’s. It is about 30 minutes from me, and that time commitment would be worth it for a good trim. So to Farmington, I went.

I searched for downtown barber shops and came up with Broadway Barber Shop; stopped by; they were open, and although they followed all of the protocols of the time, they were friendly and made you feel a human connection. It was great. After months of foolish rules and fabricated social distancing standards, once again, I felt human. And they did a great job.

I started to make a monthly pilgrimage to Farmington for the same service, and they never disappointed me. Over time, the trip developed into more than just getting my hair cut. It turns into a morning ritual, which I enjoy quite a bit.

First, I schedule a haircut every four weeks, from 9-10 AM, whatever my favorite hair person has available on a Saturday. This part is always enjoyable as we talk about our lives and ensure life is moving in the right direction. After the beautiful cut, I pay, say thank you, set the next month’s appointment, and then take a quick walk through downtown Farmington.

Farmington has changed, yet it is still the same in many ways. I know nobody in or around the town and rarely see anyone who knows me. But walking through that town, I am visited by the memory of many people I knew once upon a time and feel that so many definitely impacted me. My first stop is the Dunkin’ downtown, where I get a coffee and sit down and drink it.

As you see the people move in and out of that place, there is a combination of college students and townsfolk, which reminds me of what it was like 35 years ago when I was a student at UMF. My mind will wander back to days of fall at school and the many people I shared that time with. It is funny how we never realize that we live in a magical time until it is long over. It is only visible through the lens of retrospection.

In a way, I feel very fortunate that I do recognize how lucky I was to have that experience, and of course, like all positive, good things, you wish you could be there again. Yet we know the past is gone, and we can’t get it back. No matter what we do. However, all of the marks, the good things we love, and the complex challenges we face are still inside us. Sometimes they provide hope for our ability to overcome difficult things; sometimes, they provide regret for things we lost.

After coffee, I make sure I take a quick walk through the campus. When school is in session, I see kids moving quickly with a purpose and remember walking in their shoes. I wonder if they realize the value of the experience they are having right now. When school is on a break, there are empty streets where only ghosts of the past stroll by—inevitably reminding you of good memories and people from earlier days. I often ponder how many others feel the same way I feel about this town in the middle of Franklin County. I don’t know the answer; all I have learned is that the roots I put down many years ago still provide some connection to the people and times I lived.

Perhaps it is just getting old or a trick of the mind, but I remember Farmington as a special place, and it was the people that made it such. All those people went their separate ways, but when I go to haircut day, I see them all, just in my mind.

In conclusion, there are places, people, and things we carry inside of us for the entirety of our lives.  If we are very lucky, they are good places.  These locations are places we can touch our pasts, if only for a second.  I don’t know if it is a good thing or a bad, but I am looking forward to the next one. October is a fine month to visit Farmington, Maine.  I may see you there.

 

It’s All About The Music

Music is a powerful force in life. It has the ability to take you outside of your current experience and transport you to another place, another time and help you to remember another you. Being fortunate enough to grow up when I did, there are literally hundreds of songs and artists that have touched my life.

I have known Mike Marting since we were 5 years old and in kindergarten in Greenville, Maine. We were talking the other day about songs and their connection to our memories and we decided to declare October 2017 as nostalgic music month.  What this means is that we will be choosing artists and songs each day and sharing them, along with the nostalgic connection to the past brought with them.  There are moments that happen to each of us that capture a mood, that we enjoy revisiting like an old friend.

This is our mission and we invite anyone who wants to make a suggestion or add their own nostalgic songs and experiences to send them to me or him through this page, Facebook, email or the post office if anyone remembers how to do that.  Enjoy the day and we will see you in October, Nostalgic Music Month sponsored by Jamos and Breton’s Store.

We will do our best to complete this task each day for ourselves more than anything to connect to those times that are gone but not forgotten of our well spent, and not so well spent younger days.

What is in the Box?

by Jonathan Hilton

The old box in the attic
The old box in the attic

It had been years since I had ventured into that attic   As I climbed the rickety pull down ladder my face was greeted with a musty, dusty smell and the cold air that stabbed my cheeks reminding me of the winter weather outside.  As my body became fully engulfed by the cold I tried to make it a quick visit. I was looking for my copy of To Kill a Mockingbird,  when something caught my eye.

It was a box. There was nothing about the box that separated it or made it seem that much different from the rest of the boxes in the attic, but the feeling I had was definitely not normal or routine.  I picked it up almost subconsciously and maneuvered my way back down to the warmth of the house below with the box still closed in my hands.

There was a Christmas excitement that I was feeling as I started to pull the top of the box open to see what treasure was held inside.  I am not sure if the contents glowed but there was a light that emanated from the container as I peeked inside.  It could have been real light for all I know or remember because inside were memories that hadn’t been disturbed in years and they were being resurrected today.

The Book

Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel. Beat modernization but became a furnace in the end!
Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel. Beat modernization but became a furnace in the end!

The first thing I pulled out of the box was a book. It was a children’s book and a pretty ordinary one at that, but it brought to life, experiences that occurred long ago.

It was called Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel.  The contents of the book didn’t matter as much as the words. As I flipped through each page, the voices of those who read those pages to me in my youth came back. Most of them from the grave.

I was awash in nostalgia and even the love a kid feels when someone takes the time to read a story to you. Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and even some teachers voices rose from the page.

When I was child the best time of day was just before I went to sleep when my mother or father would read a story to us. It was a ritual that lit my imagination on fire.

I dreamed of castles, monsters and being a hero.  Those images crept back into my mind as I remembered my imaginary adventures from long ago.  I wondered how many kids today get to experience this now.

The Scrapbook

Phones looked like this. You dialed the numbers. It was slower yet better. Unless you dialed wrong.
Phones looked like this. You dialed the numbers. It was slower yet better. Unless you dialed wrong.

Anxiously I moved on, the next item was a scrapbook I had made in junior high of all of the pictures I could find with me in them. As most young people are, I suppose I was a bit self-centered at the time.

It hit me as I remembered teams I had played on or my seventh grade class picture, just how much life had changed.  Not one of the kids including me in those pictures had ever heard of a cell phone or a personal computer for that part.

Yet we managed to live our lives, make friends, go places, and have fun anyway.  I remembered how awkward it was to call someone’s house (from the phone attached to the wall) and have to talk to their mom to see if they were home.

Each of these pictures made me wonder how kids can manage to

This is Paddleball. Not much too it thank God.
This is Paddleball. Not much too it thank God.

pay attention at all today. They always have an electronic distraction within arm’s length.

I had a hard enough time concentrating when there was only a paddle ball to distract me.   If you are not sure what that is, see the image, but the point is I was easily distracted.

I looked at the kid I was and was happy for him that he had never dreamed of Facebook.  It was much more fun to talk to girls in person I think.

 My Former Friend

It doesn't matter how many people let you down, when a friend does it, it hurts.
The most painful feeling of looking for your friend and seeing only an enemy

The next item was not filled with pleasant memories. It was filled with pain and sadness. It was a homemade award that one of my best friends had given me.

It represented some joke between us. We used to work together and I thought we were very good friends.  It struck me that I had not seen nor heard from this person in over five years.

Something in my heart sunk as I thought about the temporary nature of all things in life and particularly the fleeting ideas of friendship. Why weren’t we friends anymore?  What had happened?

It all seems so silly now. There was this award, a joke shared long ago that now only echos in hollow silence.  They say that everything happens for a reason and some day perhaps I will understand the reason friendship ends, but it won’t be today.

The Game Changer

I was out of time and had to run, but I reached in the box one more time and this time I came out with a total shock. My collectors edition of thoughts by William George Jordan!  The book I think is only significant to me as my reading of it changed my life from one of a taker to one of a giver.

Reading opened doors in my mind I never knew were there.
Reading opened doors in my mind I never knew were there.

That book was the gateway for me into a world of wonder and wisdom. It planted the seed of an idea,  that every thought you form affected your experience in life was a concept that I had never conceived of, much less ever heard of before.

I recalled how as one book turned into another that philosophies started to make sense in my mind. I remember not only feeling more positive about life but more hopeful about the fate of the world.

There were greater powers available to mankind than simply watching tiny plays acted out on a television screen.  Learning is a lifelong thing and how much you want to learn is controlled only by your own personal desire and ability to put away your phone, turn off your television or computer and allow words to seep into your mind.  The reward is knowledge of anything you want.  Aladdin had a lamp, you have a book, each can make any wish you have come true.

The End

I closed the box and placed it in a very safe place and hurried off to my pressing appointment with work. Even though I left the room physically, my mind was still stretching back to what was inside that box.