Daddy, Lloyd, & Lisa*

You kids remember the Andy Griffith show? Set in Mayberry, North Carolina? The barber in that show was a funny guy named Floyd. Well Grandfield had a funny barber too, only his name was Lloyd. And he was sweet on a gal named Lisa.

Now, Lisa worked in an office, in Grandfield. And she was married to somebody else. Fact is, Lloyd was married too. But that didn’t change how he acted around Lisa!

Like this one time…

I was at the barbershop, getting my hair cut. Harvest was going on, and Grandfield was full of people; so full, Lloyd had this other barber working with him. Both of them, cutting hair, fast as they could, and a bunch of men still waiting in line.

Well, my turn came up, and instead of old Lloyd, I got the other barber, Harold. And this young guy working the harvest, up from Mexico I think, he was sitting in Lloyd’s chair. Now, the Mexican fella didn’t speak much English, but he pointed to a picture Lloyd had on the wall to show he wanted a crew cut. So, Lloyd got out his hair clippers.

My, that kid had a thick head of hair! Hot as it was, and working outside, I can see why he wanted it cut. Anyway, Lloyd slapped the No. 2 guard on his clippers, and they went bzzzz-bzzz-bzzz up the back that young guy’s head. The Mexican closes his eyes. And that thick hair starts falling on the floor.

Then, here came Lisa

Just as Lloyd swung around to the front of this guy’s head, here comes Lisa, walking up the sidewalk outside. Smiling, and wearing one of them dresses where the skirt flips up in the breeze. How Lisa’s dress found a breeze in that heat, is more than I can say, but it did. And old Lloyd starts watching her.

And that’s when the guard slipped off Lloyd’s clippers. Instead of bzz-bzzz-bzz, the clippers start growling, grrowll-rrowlll-rrowll, but Lloyd doesn’t notice a thing. From where I’m sitting, I can see the poor Mexican fella asleep in Lloyd’s chair, and a white strip starting behind those clippers and stretching up the center of his scalp. I started laughing so hard, my shoulders start to shake. And Harold has to stop cutting my hair too.

Scalped!

Lloyd’s still watching Lisa parade up the street, and his customer’s still asleep, unaware his crew cut’s become a reverse Mohawk. But everyone else in the Barbershop is watching when the clippers grind to a stop, stuck at the crown of that poor man’s head. And that finally gets Lloyd’s attention.

He looks down and sees the bone-white landing strip he’s shaved up the middle of his customer’s head. He sees his clippers, caught in the middle. Then he looks around and sees every man between Lawton and Wichita Falls staring at him. And Lloyd says the words they should have put on his tombstone.

“I can even that up.”

* to protect the guilty, I changed names and stuff here.

The Day Daddy Rolled the First Grade

You know Grandfield’s always been a small place. Shoot, there were only sixteen in my graduating class. And of that bunch, only four of us were boys. I liked that; it meant I had lots of girlfriends. But that also meant Jack, and Ick, and I got put in every school play and program

Like the year, they cast us in the senior play. We weren’t seniors but, because we were boys, they cast us anyway.

We only had little bitty parts when we had to be onstage. During the rest of the rehearsals, we were supposed to wait in the auditorium. Well, one afternoon, that teacher directing took forever getting to our scenes. That’s when we remembered the First Grade class was down the hall.

I told you that school system was small! They taught all twelve grades in one building. And I don’t know if it was Ick, or Jack, or me, but one of us thought we’d wake up the first grade.

First, we snuck out the side door of the Auditorium into a school hall. I remember, there were only three doors on that hall: our side door, the one to the janitor’s closet, and the one to the first grade classroom. And we were going to open all three.

The janitor’s closet was always full. It held his brooms and mops and buckets and all the cleaning stuff a school uses. And it had those big, industrial-sized rolls of toilet paper. We each hooked two of those rolls, and we snuck down the hall to the last door. Then Jack threw open the door to the first grade, and we bowled in those rolls of toilet paper, just like we were down at the bowling alley.

We slammed the door, and ran before they could see anything but unwinding toilet paper. But from our hiding spot in the janitor’s closet, we heard plenty. First, we heard that classroom door slam open, BANG, when it hit the wall. Then we heard the tack, tack, tack, of that teacher’s high heels, making for the principal’s office. And we heard all those little first-graders behind her, tee-heeing, fit-to-bust.

Well, the second those high heels faded out, we snuck back to the Auditorium, and sat down in our seats. And we got called to enter and say our lines a few minutes later. The director was telling us where to stand on stage when the back door of the Auditorium banged open too, BANG! And in came Mr. Pryor.

Mr. Pryor held all kinds of jobs at that school. He taught shop, and drove the school bus. And he was both principal and School Superintendent. He didn’t like me too much. Anyway, he stopped what we were doing and asked if anyone had left rehearsal.

The director, she told him no one had left, but for some reason, he didn’t believe her. And he had all us boys stand up in a line. Then he questioned us, one at a time.

“Jack, did you disturb Mrs. Hillenbrand’s classroom?”

“No, Mr. Pryor.” Jack says.

“Ick Nault, did you interrupt Mrs. Hillenbrand’s First Grade?”

“No, Sir.” Ick says, looking right back at him.

Of course, I was stuck at the end of the line. And I began to get tense. So, when Mr. Prior said, ”Bob Zumwalt, did you roll Mrs. Hillenbrand’s first-grade class?” I tried to boom back my answer. But my voice broke just as I opened my mouth so ”No, Mr” came out real high, like a girl, and then ”Pryor” bullfrogged out of my chest.

Well, I turned red, and everyone started laughing. And Pryor knew I was guilty as sin. But, whatever my punishment, it wasn’t near as good as hearing that first-grade teeheehee over toilet paper.