I guess it depends on when you consider eve to begin. It was late in the afternoon when I decided to walk to town and get a haircut.
Now Bill Ahlin had been our family barber even before I was born and he probably gave me my first haircut. I still have a scar on my left ear from one of my very early encounters with Bill.
As I walked in the door I had a gut feeling this was not a good idea. Bill was in a shop with a couple other barbers, a bootblack and a parrot. The air was charged with holiday spirit; the radio was booming out a boogie beat, while the barbers hummed along, the bootblack snapped his polishing rag in perfect syncopation and the parrot chimed in to complete the cacophony.
Soon enough Bill was ready for me and for once I was not in a hurry. Now Bill was a very good barber, when sober, and at the moment I was wondering about that. The clippers and scissors don't pose much of a threat but when it comes time to trim around my ears and side burns with a straight razor, I get a little nervous, especially when the razor is keeping time with the music.
Of course, my greatest fears were never realized, I paid my 75 cents and went on my way with a grateful heart and a New Year's resolution to NEVER again get my hair cut on New Year's Eve.