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Hey Reader,

Little did I know, reading “This is not a T-Shirt” by Bobby Hundreds would inspire me to challenge myself to 30 days of writing. But we out here. I’ve historically written about barbering and business but these next 30 days you’ll likely see a different side of me.

Yes, the plan is to write for the next 30 days. I'll publish on my Substack (never posted there before, so we'll see how that goes) and I'll also send an email. I recognize that some of you might not want to get an email everyday from me, which is why I'll be creating a separate email list for this specific 30 day writing challenge.

I honestly have no idea how this challenge will go, but if you've enjoyed my reading so far I think you might appreciate the stories to be told.

If you want to get this writing challenge directly in your email inbox, simply reply to this email and say 'add me to the list' or something like it and you're in.

If you're on the fence, then read Day 01 below and then make a decision. No hard feelings if you don't reply, it's chill, we're cool.

The Starry Night & Carrot Cake

Immediately after climbing down a booster seat resting on top of the Koken barber chair, a few things happened. First, my mom would hand me cash. I’d turn around, hand the cash plus tip and say thank you to Barber Dean. He was an older white barber with white hair and a white mustache, at least that’s the image that flashes when I think of him. It was 25 years ago and unfortunately we never took a picture together, so I could be completely wrong. I do know he was white, older and owned the shop.

He cut in the first chair and that’s historically reserved for the owner of the shop. I assume it’s that way because they’re closest to the door and can be the first to welcome patrons. It’s funny how nowadays it’s common for a patron to walk-in, look around, sit down and never be greeted by anyone. 10 minutes go by, the patron thinks they’re up next and then a barber finally decides to ask them if they have an appointment. The patron doesn’t and then you hear the pin drop. So awkward.

After paying Barber Dean, we walked outside onto California Drive around the corner from Sweet Treats. Burlingame Avenue’s go to ice cream shop (before it was the bougie Burlingame Avenue). The same ice cream shop my parents went to with my brother after the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. Apparently it was the only place open within walking distance that night, I’m sure the sweet treat was a decent distraction from the tragedy. I’m getting side tracked.

Immediately after stepping outside the barbershop and onto the sidewalk of California Drive, I’d tilt my head down, place both my hands on the top of my head and shake them dreads. No, not actual dreads, with a Filipino father and white mother, I’d shake my nearly black, straight hair until the little boy styled comb over had disappeared. I was never one to style my hair. My first memory of a hairstyling product was at my Grandma’s house in San Mateo when my big cousin Sable and big brother Tyler would play “salon”. Of course, the youngest one in the family got to be the model. I’m not complaining though, it was some good childhood memories.

Let me be clear, I liked Barber Dean. I just didn’t like how he styled my hair. In just a couple hours, I’d be sweaty from hooping out front with my brother or playing hot lava monster at Washington Park and god knows that comb over styled with only water wasn’t going to hold up. Not with my hair type at least.

I did like talking to Barber Dean though. He’d always ask me, ‘So what are you learning in school?’ I’m sure my mother loved it when he asked that question so she could finally hear her youngest son talk about school for once. Funny how kids open up more to anyone that isn’t their parents. I’m living that right now with 2 young kids of my own.

Little did Barber Dean know, there was a future Communication Studies major and future barber in his chair, so he was gonna get an answer from this little kid. During one particular haircut when I was in 1st grade, I told him we were learning about art. As a young 6 year old tastemaker, I asked him if he knew about Claude Monet and Vincent Van Gogh. And sure enough, Barber Dean did. He started name dropping all the iconic paintings like The Starry Night and Water Lilies. I bet nobody had art talks between a 6 year old and 60 year old on the shop talk topic bingo card that day.

Conversation is part of the barbershop experience, but for whatever reason, this one stuck with me. The barbershop is a place where a 6 year old with straight black hair can talk about Van Gogh and Monet with their 60 year old white haired, white mustached barber. A mother can sit nearby and hear her child share stories they might not have heard before. It’s a place where space is created for a conversation. What else are you gonna do for 30 minutes while you’re that close to somebody? Might as well talk and see where the wind takes you. On that day, the wind blew like it did in The Starry Night, and a seed was planted.

I had an 8 year old in my chair the other day (not a Koken, but Takara Belmont will do). He reminded me of that little boy who would shake his hair out on California Drive. We got to talking about carrot cake. He’d never had it before and I told him he was missing out. I summoned my sales skills from my previous career and told that boy he needed to try some. It was a funny conversation, his Dad was sitting nearby laughing.

After they walked outside on the sidewalk, I’m not sure if he shook his hair out like I did. But, I did wonder, maybe his Van Gogh will be carrot cake.

Reminder: If you want to get this writing challenge directly in your email inbox, simply reply to this email and say 'add me to the list' or something like it and you're in.

If not, then do nothing. You'll still be on my standard email list and receive theGuideline when released.

Written by: Matthew Mendoza​​
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