Goodbye to an old friend I never really knew

I don't remember Tim's last name.

Tim was my barber. He cut my hair for almost 20 years. And even though it got thinner and thinner on top, Tim could still find a few hairs that needed to be looked after.

Tim knew where I worked, he knew my family, he knew about my motorcycle/banjo/goat/airplane addictions, but better yet, he knew exactly how I liked my hair.

But I hardly knew anything about him, and now he's retired -- off to do whatever it is that retired barbers do -- and some guy named Tom has taken his place, and I don't know what to think anymore.

Tom seems to be a nice guy, and I probably should give him a chance, but change is hard.

I've given some thought to letting my hair grow long (the one or two that CAN grow long), be the hippy I always wanted to be, just in honor of my old friend, Tim.

More than likely I'm going to give my hair-cutting business to Tom.

Tom, my new barber, whose last name I forget.

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