This is a canned photo of an elderly priest, purporting to be me, getting a haircut. A few sentences of personal history might prove helpful - but probably only to me - and probably certainly not to anyone else on earth. I hated getting haircuts. I would postpone getting haircuts until I became frightened at look at myself in the mirror when I woke up. I felt I looked like Albert Einstein. The barber in the second chair, Keith, thought that I looked like Queen Elizabeth. I am sure this was his effort to tell me that I looked wonderful. After many years living in the area, I had finally stumbled across the Esquire Barber Shop in Madison. I had driven past it for decades and never looked in. Even more remarkably, I discovered that I knew the owner, John, whom I had always called John the Barber! I cautiously poked my head into the barber shop. The Barber closest to the door said, "Monsignor." - I looked at him and said, "John the Barber?" He had a smile on his face. We embraced - and I truly felt at home in a barber shop. John was a close friend of a close friend who had died. We had many friends in common. Passages from the Bible about the Prodigal Son came quickly to mind - seriously. I was happy. I had found a barber shop. I had rediscovered a friend from many decades ago.
I instantly changed my routine for getting a haircut. I had always hung around the area of a barber shop until I was sure that I would be the only person waiting for a haircut. I'm shy - and just did not wish to interact. For some reason, I had always felt kind of exposed getting a haircut. I wanted to get in and out. I always brought a book to read. God forbid that I have some human contact. You get the picture. So I braced myself and got a haircut from John the Barber. I spent the entire haircut talking with John. Unheard of - for my usual haircut behavior. I learned that we had many mutual friends. We talked about people who had died - and we both knew well. On and on.
Over the years, I learned that the Esquire Barber Shop was a reservoir of information about the area. I had a pretty responsible position in the diocese - and often John knew more of what was going on than I did. It caused me to listen even more closely. He knew what was happening in the parish and diocese. I had insights on what was going well - and what was not. I learned from John what was happening in other parishes, what programs from the diocese were working and what were not. I can assure you that, whether something was working or not in the parish or the diocese, this barber shop became an important source of information. I used the information to see what was working- and, most importantly, to see what might be made better - quietly, no fingerprints! It was fun. I came to look forward to listening to the wise people who were sitting down waiting for their haircuts.
As time went on, I actually started talking with people in the barber shop who were waiting for a haircut. (Good grief, I was talking with strangers - and actually enjoyed it! Don't think that I am a recluse who never talks with anyone. I do talk with people, but usually only people that I know through my jobs. Until I retired, I used to speak with hundreds of people in the course of a day - and even higher numbers in the course of a week.)
I have obviously relied on Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The addition of John and Keith to my sources has made me a better person, a better priest. The Esquire Barber Shop has enriched my life. I am grateful.
If I had to start over now, I would probably look like this: