Aaron Canvasser is one of Jim's, in his words, weirdest friends. Aaron and his wife Cheryl are ballroom dancers. They follow the ball room dancing circuit and enjoy the intricate, challenging part of the dance. Aaron goes nowhere without his dog, Shaka. Cute, endearing and friendly, like Aaron.
Shaka made herself right at home in the motor home. Cheryl, however, had to work this season, and Aaron does the dancing circuit without her. (That might be the reason he is weird, or different.) She stayed home and Aaron has had to dance with partners whose husbands or partners are out of the competition.
I planned to go find a place for a haircut. Aaron offered to cut my hair for me. Naw! I don't think so. His wife Cheryl confirmed over the phone that Aaron cuts her hair for her and is good at it. He charmed me into it. He cut my hair and did a credible job. But, the haircut was secondary to the laughter we shared. Every passing walker and driver either smiled or cat called and asked when it was their turn. Jim insisted on a picture.
The hair fell, I brushed off, we laughed a lot. It wasn't the best haircut I ever had, but it was the most fun haircut I ever had. After all, I reasoned, the difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut is about a week.
Then, much to my surprise, Aaron asked me to cut HIS hair. I'm game. I cut my boys hair when they were kids. I warned him I hadn't cut hair in about 30 years.
He was game. So this time the guys passing by were cat calling and asking when the next appointment would be.
Aaron left less shaggy than when he arrived. I guess it was a credible job as well. If I ever come back to this life a second time, I might try barber as an occupation.
Who would have thunk?
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