Sunday, October 7, 2012
still-sound 112. Combs
This morning feels like a Sunday morning in Fall. The heat was beginning to break through, but the night chill still clung to the ground as Rosie and I walked through Elysian Park. There were few cars. An older couple walked past speaking Mandarin to each other. I often see them. The man usually waves and says "Hi" when he sees me, but today he was concentrating on his conversation.
When I finish my coffee I'm going to have a shower, shave my whiskers and comb my hair. I will use a comb I purchased at Ross Cutlery, an old shop in downtown Los Angeles that sells all manner of knives and blades. I suppose their selection of barber's supplies came about as an off-shoot of their straight razor collection. I asked the gentleman behind the counter which comb I should purchase. He recommended large ones. I didn't particularly like the way they looked. I chose a small black comb made in Germany. It says MASTER BARBER Junior in gold. Apparently it's a barber's comb, not really intended for the amateur. I like the thought of grooming with a precision instrument.
The small white comb is for my moustache. It provides a nice contrast to the black comb. This is how they look propped up in a black glass jar in my bathroom:
I would love to go on a long bike ride today. Except I have to go to work shortly. And I don't have a bike.