Goodbye Summertime, Hello Falltime!
I'M GETTING BETTER AT PLANNING! (BOOK NOW)
Happy Autumn, Theydies and Gentlethem. I hope you're as happy as I am that school's back in, without a schedule my world turns to chaos. Not like movie chaos with explosions and riots, but like Chaos Theory, with random or unpredictable behaviour, and as exciting as it can be at times, it's mostly just frustrating. I don't require drill sergeant order, but there needs to be a rudder on the majestic ocean liner that is Seth of The Seas, you know?
We will forego the minutes of last month's meeting. First order of business: The back to school rush was jam packed, thanks for your flexibility and patience. I'm also flexible at times, so if you insist on sucking at time management and remember to get a haircut 24 hours before a wedding or something (I'm looking at you, Chris), message me or add a note on the waitlist request and I can stay late or come in early. I simply want to help, and it's definitely not me being selfish and being fearful of losing a customer to Thomas E. Rifle. I just don't want that to happen to you. I care.
I went to Vancouver and took hardly any pictures, but I had to document gas being barely more expensive than in Red Deer. Blew my mind. Kirsten wasn't much impressed at my gas prices-to-family vacation picture ratio.
Next up: Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving Sunday is October 13th. That's less than 4 weeks away. The week or so before that weekend is a busy one, family photos are being taken, people see their mothers. So, being the broken record I am, plan ahead and book now.
BOOK A CUT AND THEN CALL A MEAT SHOP AND RESERVE A TURKEY
Good news about bad news
A dear regular was in the chair last week and he's usually the friendliest, but that day was subpar. Everything we talked about, current events, the ravages of age, health, etc., was just a downer. Not his fault, I was no help, it happens, some days are just full of crap. And, keep in mind, the chair is there for venting. Let it all out, Seth is here for you. If you need a drink (shifty eyes side to side) I can try to help. So I thought about ways to steer the conversation to positivity. Tell a joke? I only know kid jokes and puns, so that's out.
I'm guilty of unconsciously hunting for misery, I spend too much time on social media. Not on Instagram promoting my business like I should, but on Twitter (you can't change a name so engrained in the common vernacular and expect everyone to follow, anyone remember when Parkland Mall changed names for a brief time?) and Reddit. I go to Twitter because it used to be funny. Now there are very funny tweets surrounded by crazies and bad news. So I justify it by laughing out loud once per hour, while the rest of the time is damaging my psyche by desensitizing and acclimatizing it to garbage. I flip flop between wanting to be an informed citizen and the desire to be blissfully ignorant.
But, as a barber it's my duty to be informed.
("I sat down today in a high barber's chair
to hear the town gossip and clean up my hair
- Afterthought, by Conor Oberst. Look him or his band Bright Eyes up on Spotify, you won't be disappointed)
But I should also be informed of good news, too. If you've spoken to me more than once, you'll know I love spouting off my opinions. Bad habit, but "I am as god made me, sir" (Spinal Tap. Good movie. Look it up.)
So you know what I did? I googled "good news" and "good things that have happened lately". There are ENTIRE WEBSITES all about good news. goodnewsnetwork.org and positive.news were the first two to come up. Nothing world changing, and I didn't dig too deep, so they could be selling something (probably) or they could sell your info to fund a one-way rocket to an asteroid, but the bad news people are doing that, too.
I remembered, Hey, I think there's a subreddit about good news. I searched for it, there it is, it's called UpliftingNews and oh right, I already subscribed to it. But it never shows up because the algorithm is not there to make us happy.
BOOK NOW, OR AFTER THE USUAL MEANDERING STORY. YOUR CALL.
A story.
Reminds me of a time long ago when I was working in a printing press. I wasn't into it, but scurvy had taken my only cow and I had no milk for müsli, so I had to take a job that my Uncle Flinder had lined up for me, which was more a way for him to pay back his gambling debts at the worm races. Anyway, my job was typesetting, and I had to proofread every story before setting the type, which made my fingers sore and my spirit blah. Just blurgh, you know? Just overall mlehhh.
I set out to find good news. I threw down my newsie cap and told Old Mr. Gutenburg, "this job just isn't my type!" and stared at him, waiting for a laugh. "Nothing?" But he just stared. I picked up my hat, angry at the wasted pun, shook out the letters into a bowl of soup, giving him a million dollar idea but I was too rushed to notice. Dagnabbit.
I ran down the street, stopping at every person. "Tell me something good that happened to you recently, wouldja?"
"I lost a tooth!" said little Trompsy, just 6 years old.
"I was digging a root cellar and struck gold!" cheered Lestrich.
"The factory where I work burned down!" said Philonstera. "That's not very good news," I said. "It is for me," he replied as he lit his tobacco pipe and pulled his hat back down over his eyes. "Now get out of my sun."
I wanted to spread the good news all over the valley. So I did.
"Here comes that kid with the good news," they'd say.
"We get it," they'd say.
I decided to write a book instead of walking. It was tiring, after all.
This was in nineteen-dickety-two. We had to say dickety because the Kaiser had stolen our word twenty. I chased that rascal to get it back, but gave up after dickety-six miles. Then after World War Two, it got kinda quiet, 'til Superman challenged FDR to a race around the world. FDR beat him by a furlong, or so the comic books would have you believe. The truth lies somewhere in between. Three wars back we called Sauerkraut "liberty cabbage" and we called liberty cabbage "super slaw" and back then a suitcase was known as a "Swedish lunchbox." We can't bust heads like we used to, but we have our ways. One trick is to tell 'em stories that don't go anywhere - like the time I caught the ferry over to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe, so, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. Give me five bees for a quarter, you'd say. Ah, there's an interesting story behind that nickel. In 1957, I remember it was, I got up in the morning and made myself a piece of toast. I set the toaster to three: medium brown. Now where were we? Oh yeah: the important thing was I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn't have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones...
Yes, that last part was Abe Simpson. No, I'm not ashamed of plagiarizing, it was just a little pepper on my good news salad. Besides, a little Simpsons never put anyone in a bad mood. It's also called working smarter, not harder. Look it up.
Thanks for letting me waste your time. I hope to see you soon. Tell me a joke and get 10% off your next cut.
Your Second Favourite Barber,
Seth
P.S. my 10 year old daughter is getting into photography and she used my late uncle's sweet old Pentax 35mm film camera to take the header image of the tree in our front yard, and the one below of two butterflies. as if that's not the most adorable and awesome thing ever.
Seth's Barbershop
4925 48 Street, RED DEER, AB, T4N1S8
Don’t Let The Wolves Getcha!
CLICK HERE TO INITIATE PREEMPTIVE BOOKING!
Here's what's up.
As you may have seen written on the mirror at the barbershop or on my Instagram, I'm away from August 18-25. My wife's brother is getting married in the Vancouver area, and they didn't take my schedule into account when booking their date. Rude? I mean, of all the weekends in the year they have to pick the second-busiest time for me? Luckily, school doesn't start until after Labour Day this year, finally. Like, who thought it was a good idea to have kids come in for roll call then give them three more days off?
That gives us 6 days to get you cleaned up before school. If you go to school. Or maybe you teach, and you don't want to earn a terrible nickname from the kids on the first day. You know, like, Doc Brown, or Old HairyNeck. Or, The Crazy Janitor Who Teaches English.
(*Janitor is no less respectable than Teacher, just as important. I was just going for effect, and you pictured what I was alluding to, so we're both being judgmental and elitist today. Happy?)
Anyhoo, I'll be doing longer hours for the last week of August to atone for my laziness (a week with extended family, you think that's going to be relaxing?), open Monday to Saturday, 10-7. So get in where you can fit in. If you're just the worst and are bad at planning ahead, message me and I'll see where I can squeeze you in. I'm here for you.
I'M NOT THE WORST, SO I'LL BOOK NOW
Segue Street
Speaking of learning, I don't think there's a human alive (over, say, 20) who didn't grow up on Sesame Street. We don't count the Amish or the North Sentinalese, so don't get clever. What I mean is, we all watched Big Bird and Snuffaluffagus/Snuffleupagus/Grimace and the crew. Nobody has ever looked at a metal garbage can and not thought about Oscar. We were best friends and third roommate/wheel with Bert and Ernie. We sang the Rubber Ducky song. We listened to Ernie preach about washing behind ours ears in the bath. But did we listen? I don't think all of us did.
I'm not naming names, and I'm not trying to be rude here, but alls I'm sayin' is, you need to wash behind your ears when you shower. Simple water running over doesn't get things clean. It doesn't bother me, and I really shouldn't use this platform to shame grown adults into hygiene, but I couldn't stay silent. Because if you're not washing behind your ears, what else aren't you washing?!?
Hands. Increase your hand washing, because back to school time is when those snotty little kids get each other sick, bring it home to their families, get snot all over everything, parents bring it to work, get their co-workers sick, then they go to the barber and wet-sneeze and get the barber sick, who has to take time off work, and this cold and flu season is a bad batch, so the barber is laid up for like two weeks, loses a bunch of customers to other, temporarily healthy, barbers, and next thing you know, his kids are forced to turn to a life of crime, and since the barber has four of them, that's four (4) more criminals on the streets, crime stats get way out of whack, funding gets redirected, services get slashed, the country goes into (yet another) recession, the stock market crashes, the WHOLE WORLD goes into panic mode, there's mayhem in the streets, martial law, piles of smoking rubble, tanks patrolling while a loud speaker drones on about a curfew and rationing, food supplies are altered, livestock are poached and stolen, fences are snipped, allowing coyotes and wolves to feast limitlessly making them stronger and meaner, taking down entire herds of big game which changes entire ecosystems and river erosions, causing landslides, ultimately changing the face of the Earth as we know it, or knew it, since we might not survive this New Earth now dominated by the Wolves and Coyotes, who have formed an alliance (!!!) to become the new top of the food chain (they broke into experimental science labs and now are growing thumbs and vocal chords (!!!)) and the human race is all but extinct, and it's all because you wanted to save 20 seconds in the shower?
Soaping up real good: the future of the human race depends on it.
Maybe I'm just selfish and don't want to get sick.
Anywhey,
You're still handsome and squeaky clean in my books. Enjoy the rest of your summer. Next time you're in, say the Wolves sent you and get 10% off!
Your Second Favourite Barber,
Seth
Seth's Barbershop
4925 48 Street, RED DEER, AB, T4N1S8
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July, July!
Hey. You clicking this email is a sign from the universe that you should take a minute and take a breather and hear what I have to say. Or, read what I have to type, I guess. Semantics.
Before we begin, the usual disclaimer: You have every right to unsubscribe from this email. I may not have even asked you if it was okay, which is technically illegal, but in the way that VHS movies would threaten a billion dollar fine and Life in jail if you copied it. More frowned upon and discouraged. How do we know it's a law if we don't test it once in a while? And it's new enough to plead ignorance, like the new parking app that's a year old.
So I sent it anyway. I just assumed since you seemed cool. Maybe I was wrong. No hard feelings. I got an unsubscribe last month. I was taken aback; what's not to like about a good rant? Have you seen how popular Facebook is? But he'd only been in once in the past year, and some people don't collect spam like me, so I guess I get it. He's moved on, cutting ties. Yes, I see who unsubscribes. No, I won't make it awkward if he ever comes back, or if you unsubscribe. We'll go on, business as usual, but I'll know. I'll know. I won't be mad. But I'll know.
As I may have told you, I'm on staycation. Relaxing in my villa (house), eating tapas (Ritz crackers) and getting lost in a good book (doomscrolling). We may go enjoy the beach (RD River), or stroll the countryside (Clearview Ponds), then take in some local culture (Westerner Days fireworks as seen from the Sport Chek parking lot) before finishing it all off with a nightcap (a Bubly and No Name Cheddar Bacon chips).
I know what you're thinking. "Seth. Who cares. Cut to the chase. You're interrupting my real vacation or my day at work covering those on vacation to brag about your holiday, off gallivanting in the South of Clearview. We can't all be so lucky." And I get it, dear reluctant reader. Such is the life of a self-proclaimed influencer. I make no apologies. I am insufferable. I am the wind.
Last month's email was a rant, this month's is a preach.
The last quarter has been very busy at the barbershop and I'm hashtag blessed to have you all come back for cuts and chats. Maybe it's an extended honeymoon period but I still enjoy even the long days.
However, this is the first week off I've had in a year (not counting Yuletide break because it does not count). So although I was happy and had good days, my body and brain were telling me it was time to chill out for a bit. You asked me what I was going to do, and I said I was going to organize the garage and get stuff done, but if I get nothing done other than this newsletter, I'm 100% cool with it.
Work smarter, not harder, they say. Physical workouts need rest days. Athletes need an off-season. You work too hard, and you deserve to take some days off. That includes your phone that's always blowing up, emails to respond to (not like this slice of heaven that is a sustenance. No need to respond, just soak it in), or people who "just can't wait". I know your job is important, but if you can't take at least a long weekend without your work phone, you need to learn how to work smarter. That isn't the preaching part, that's just the dad in me. I care for you, pal. Nobody on their deathbed wishes they worked harder.
I'm privileged in that I can take time off and if one of my customers, clients, clientstomers, isn't cool with it, then I guess I've lost them to another barber. That's okay. There are more heads in the city. My mental health and time with my kids are paramount.
This is where I tell a humourous story, and I had one brewing but I'm already 5 days late sending this email out. I had it half-written when I realized it wasn't even funny, and the ending would've sucked, so I deleted it all. And here we are. I have a sunburn, no a/c in my house (a thermometer in my bedroom told me it was 29 reffing degrees in my bedroom last night, despite being in the crossfire of 2 fans. I'm going to the grocery store to open the ice cream freezer and pretend to price compare but not buy anything.
Anyway, thanks for enduring this.
See you soon,
Your Second Favourite Barber,
Seth
Seth's Hair Related Tips
Does your scalp get itchy and irritated? You may need to dry it more. If you let water sit on your table or floor, it's kinda ruined, right? Well don't let water sit on your skin either. Blow dry if possible, and better yet, use a diffuser, the attachment I use with the nice little massaging rubber fingers. It won't puff up your hair. Or dry better with a separate towel after the shower. Another tip is changing your pillow. My scalp was itchy and my crappy pillow was hurting my neck anyway so I switched it up, and my neck got better as well as my scalp. Go to Sleep Country and get them to set you up. I just learned you should change pillows every 2 years, and I'm a dozen overdue.
Happy...Summer?
Happy….Summer?
Summer is here this week, so says my calendar. It's green out, flowers are blooming, and it's 14 degrees.
The last few months have been very busy in the barbershop, and I'm incredibly grateful to all of you, and I appreciate your telling friends and neighbours to come down for a cut. You're the best. The collective best.
People are getting their summer cuts, the passing of winter brought everyone out of hibernation and into the barbershop to freshen up. I'd say it's the weather, but that's kinda half of it? It's just around the corner. A long, uphill corner.
We've waited patiently. Staring out the window like we're waiting for an Amazon package because we got an email saying it's "on the way!", getting excited at every white Ford Transit that drives by. Or waiting for the cable guy to come Monday between 9-5 but it's now 8:00 Wednesday. But you can't get mad when they come or they may give you slower internet because they have that power and they don't take no crap.
That's what it's like waiting for summer to arrive. It came earlier last year, what gives? Is it El Niño/Niña? Is it George Soros? Is it simply the end times?
Summer in Central Alberta is like an Every-Other-Weekend Dad. He's not here often, but when he is, oh, we love him so much. Kinda wish we had a dad like those lucky kids a few blocks south of us though, he's always early and sticks around for a long time. That would be sweet. Welp, gotta make the most of what we have, because Winter is like an eager stepdad who is always there because he lives us but we wish he would just go away. He claims to be fun, but his idea of fun suuuuuucks. Yeah, we can still go fishing, but it's just not the same, Bill.
We sit on the step with our fishing pole and sleeping bag waiting for Every-Other-Weekend Dad to come by and take us camping. But he won pool league last night so, naturally, he went out and celebrated and by the time he rolls up in his Trans Am with the T-roof open, hours late, he won't take off his sunglasses. Some call it Heroin Chic, could be Dive Bar Cool. He's just so cool. Ratty sleeveless tee under his scuffed leather jacket, he's even got a goatee. And an earring. He winces as he slams the door and flicks his cigarette butt on the lawn and there's a woman getting out of shotgun who we've never seen before. She smells like hairspray and Malibu Rum, and dad introduces her not by name but as our new stepmom and sorry champ, camping won't work today but next time for sure. 'Sposedta rain anyway. He says he's got "meetings" all day but also hasn't had a job in quite some time. He rustles our hair and tells New Stepmom they'd better make tracks before our mom comes out. Last cheque bounced but it was the bank's fault. We pick up our stuff, shoulders slumped, and go back up to our room and hear the Trans Am peel out, gears grinding, the RPMs reaching octaves to match the Eddie Van Halen solo coming from the speakers, New Stepmom laughing. Mom and Bill are whispering in the hallway, maybe we'll go for ice cream, at least.
IMPORTANT!
I will be away from July 14-22nd, so plan accordingly! If that's your usual haircut week, let me know and we can do before or after.
So, not much in the way of "news" in this newsletter, I'm just trying to get my money's worth. End of June is always crazy, more graduations, people getting cleaned up before summer vacation. Better get in now, or wait until July when there's so much space. You know what? Do both!
Keep fit, have fun, stay warm.
Your Second Favourite Barber,
Seth
Book, Rebook, Ad Infinitum.
It all begins with an idea.
Hiya gang, it's your monthly hello from Your Second Favourite Barber. The one who doesn't know how to upload pictures to a laptop computer so he has to use a suggested stock photo but it's of a sweet bike he would ride the crap out of that also fit the colour scheme so he's super chuffed about it.
Obligatory notice: Feel free to unsubscribe. You may have been placed on this mailing list because I thought you might enjoy it. If not, whatever, man. Moving on.
Do you believe in fate? Well, you opened up your email and here I am, so it's fate whether you believe in it or not. Fate is telling you to book your next cut, and to do it right now. It takes less than 2 minutes. Did you just get one last week? Well, book your next one anyway and you can reschedule when the early alert notifies you. Or when the early notification alerts you. You know how it works by now; you get the heads up, you change your time if you need, or you can be a man of your word and keep your commitment to your barber, the one with feelings and abandonment issues. I kid.
Let's talk about something super fun! May is Mental Health Month! Ugh, I know. Enough, amirite? But guess what? I don't care. I've had some heavy talks with great people in my chair who are going through tough things lately. Fights with the wife, a dad's funeral, or the one that got away. These are things that we all deal with eventually, and while they're not mental health issues per se, if we bury them down and don't talk about them, they don't go away, they metastasize and drive us crazy. All this to say:
The barber chair is a place to relax and take a break from your busy life. If you've got something to vent about, I'm honoured and privileged to be the ear it falls upon. I'm not a therapist who can offer advice, but all anyone needs is an ear. Something so little as talking to your barber when he asks how you are is taking care of your mental health. Staying silent for the whole cut is taking care of your mental health (closed eyes is a sign to me that the client doesn't want to talk and it happens plenty, and I don't take offence, quite the opposite). Simply getting a haircut and feeling good is taking care of your mental health.
Switching gears: It's high school graduation time! For some schools, it's next week! Whose bright idea was it to hold graduation then go back for another month of school? Some jerk, I can tell you that much. Either way, many of your boys (or you, but pretend this is to your parent for a minute for the sake of the story) will be graduating high school, so why not treat them to a gift card for a cut and shave?
Treat them to a hot towel shave to pamper them one last time before they step up to knock on the door of the real world. They straighten their collar, clear their throat and lick their palm and flatten their hair. It may take a few knocks, as it's super busy in there. Finally the door bursts open and the guy answering it looks disheveled and obviously stressed, tired and hyper at the same time, he yells "WHAT?!? Oh, another one? Gah, they keep coming." There's smoke, laughter, screaming, bright red lights, flashing strobes, the sound of chainsaws for some reason, and John Woo doves. "Okay," he sizes them up as he puffs his cig. "Looking good, champ. Did you sign your forms? Doesn't matter. Come on. You won't need that lunchbox."
They walk the hallway, cubicles and offices to the left and right, no ceiling, only Mordor in the distance. A buzzing, a siren. Flaming arrows whizzing by their heads, the doorman says, "I'm Trevor, your guide. Don't ask questions, I'm only the guide." Trevor walks with purpose, like he's walked this hallway a trillion times before. Has he? The Graduate is stumbling to keep up, tripping over loose children and radio controlled cars, underfoot the crunching of broken glass/dreams. They see doors with placards. Retail, Labour, Middle Management, Success, Homeless, Fame. Some man-sized, some garage door-sized, a door barely big enough for a mouse labeled, "Prosperous Artist".
"I want that door back there!" yells The Graduate.
"Don't we all," says Trevor, rolling his eyes. "Which one? They're all so close together, it's easy to aim for one and get the other."
"Success."
Trevor stops. He chuckles. He looks around, the arrows stop. The limitless world erupts in laughter, so loud The Graduate presses their hands to their ears. "Make it stop!!!" The laughter stops and the screaming continues.
"Okay. This is where you go on without me. Be careful, most doors are mislabeled. Take this," Trevor hands The Graduate a slab of dripping red meat the size of a football with the word SUCCESS branded on it. "Welcome to The Real World. Good Luck." Trevor lights a cigarette with the butt of the last and walks back through the fog as he's passed by five wolves, drooling and snarling, staring at The Graduate, who tries to drop the Success Meat. It won't fall. It's fused to their hands. Panicked, The Graduate looks into the abyss and starts to run, footsteps and rabid barking close behind.
In the distance they hear, "Tell 'em Trevor sent ya to get 10% off your next haircut at Seth's!"
Also, were you lucky enough to see those Northern Lights the other night?! I got some great pics, let's talk about it next time.
See you soon,
Seth
Book your next appointment
It all begins with an idea.
This is your reminder to book a haircut. My automated system gives you a 3 day heads up, so if you need to reschedule, you can do it then. Just book a cut now, and figure it out later. Do it. Go. I double dog dare you.
Now that that's done and out of the way: How are you? Good, me too, thanks. Welcome to the World's Best Monthly Barbershop Newsletter. TM.
Once again, spam laws require me to get consent before sending these marketing emails, so thanks for agreeing to them. Unsubscribe if you'd like, no worries. But you may think, "Hey, he didn't ask me, why am I getting these?" And in some cases, I didn't. I just figured, "Nah, this person's cool, they totally want my ramblings filling up their inbox. They probably use their spam email for booking anyway." You're not gonna narc on me, are ya? Are you cool?
Now. Let me tell you about Kent combs. They're nice. My wife got me a model 2T like 10 years ago, the lettering is worn off, and I've dropped it so many times on the tile floor, but it's held up. Teeth still as straight as an orthodontist's child's. These aren't some plastic pumped into a mold kinda comb, they're hand made! With a saw! I don't know how that works, it's what it says on the comb. I mean, it can't be a hand saw or anything, can it? It's probably a sophisticated zinger pulled down by some chap in England wearing a three piece suit with a waxed moustache and flawless hair. It's a simple, shiny chrome lever pulled with one hand so the other can sip tea. The blades are hand-sharpened weekly by the local bladesmith.
The box says they're by appointment from the Queen (must be old boxes) so you KNOW they're made with elegance. I bet the Queen's combmakers have butlers and drive Bentleys. Which is crazy, because the combs are only $18! (the foldable 20T is $20, but the extra $2 is a small price to pay for the extra cool). If they're good enough for HRH, they're good enough for peasants such as us.
I like to imagine the lever puller is a man named Giles. He's a 7th generation Sawyer, an Eton man from East Chestlewick-on-Thames. He works hard from 9:00-3:30, 4 days a week. His wife, Agatha, runs a bakery and the whole family smells of cinnamon rolls. The children, Rose and Wilfred, will one day take over as 8th generation sawyer and 2nd generation baker. Which is which? It's 2024, either can happen! Or will the two break tradition and be 1st generation TikTokkers?!
I guess it all depends on how well Kent Combs sell.
Swanyway, Kent Combs are now on the menu. Try one out next time you're in. They've got heft. Buy nice or buy twice. Or thrice, even.
Thanks for your time. You're handsome, you have great taste in barbers, and if you happen to say "Giles says Hello" next time you're in, you get ten percent off your next cut. It's a "Van Halen Brown M&Ms contract" kinda discount.
Love, your second favourite barber,
Seth
Seth's Handy Hair Tip #2
Just as important as washing your hair is drying your hair. Most of us give the towel a quick rub on the head and get going because we think we're so busy, but if you have thicker/denser hair, that water can sit on your scalp and cause flaking or irritation. Would you let water sit on your hardwood floor? Maybe if you're a renter, but you own your head, so no, you wouldn't. Is it dandruff, or are you just not drying well enough? Try drying your hair with a separate towel after you dry off, down to the root, and extra points if you use a hair dryer. Use it on low power and it won't poof out your hair. Zero points if you laughed at "poof". Magicians don't like to be laughed at.
Everyone loves emails!
It all begins with an idea.
Hi, it's me, your second favourite barber. Welcome to my newsletter.
First of all, you can totally unsubscribe from this list, I won't blame you one bit. I won't send more than, say, one a month. Heck, it's taken me 13 months to send this one. But the website charges me like $20/mo to send marketing emails, so by gum, I'm gonna get my money's worth. Here comes your $20 email.
Secondly, I want to thank you for coming into my shop this past year and letting me cut your hair. Getting a business going is tough when you have to rely on people coming in your door, and it makes me genuinely happy when you do.
Brass tacks: more than a couple of you have mentioned that you just plain forget to book your appointments until the last minute, and that I should send reminders. I'm not just saying that, I actually did hear that from actual people, to my actual face. And my booking app doesn't do individual reminders, yet, so this is the next best thing.
Next time you're in, I'll be asking you if you'd like to schedule your next cut. Everyone says, "I don't know my schedule yet", so the cut gets left until panic time. I say, why not make your haircut the first thing on your schedule for next month? What's more important than self care? Why do I always have to be on the back burner?!? Besides, the appointment app notifies you a few days in advance, so if something more important (I mean, come on) is on that day, then it's an easy click to reschedule. Bingo banjo.
I'm going to throw in some tips on hair care and stuff like that, just so it doesn't feel like I'm just nagging you to make an appointment. Which I kind of am. But I'm leaning into some new products I'm excited to tell you all about, so just you wait.
Thanks for reading this far, and book your spring cut!
And maybe a bottle of Seth's Beard Oil for your bearded friends? Seth's Negroni Aftershave for your beardless friends?
I'm working on a few other exciting ideas to share with you, I'll let you know when they're ready, or I'll run them by you when your in the chair.
Thanks,
Seth
Seth's Hair Tip #1
I started shaving 30 years ago, but didn't know how to do it right until I went to barber school. I used to think I'd get a closer shave by going against the grain. It was closer for a day, but I was pushing the hairs back down, leading to ingrown hairs and irritation. Always shave with and side-to the grain of your facial hair. Look closely in the mirror and notice which way(s) your hair grows and follow it. The growth patterns can look like Starry Night under there.
Best to shave after a shower so the hair is nice and soft, and use thick but minimal lather so you can see the hairs just in case. And get a better razor! I've found that 1 blade is better than 4. Safety razors are less expensive and have a better shave. Come in and let's talk about it.