By Don Allen
Who knew a belt might change the world? |
…On last Saturday, I needed a haircut - so did my son. My
usual barber was on a well-deserved vacation. I went over to West Broadway and
found a barbershop open at 8:15 in the morning. The brothers who worked there
are in the middle of a war zone with
Drugs,
Crime,
Hunger,
Poverty and
Blight on West Broadway. The barbers stand firm on their beliefs.
One barber a tall, robust fella with a quick wit and knew all the names of the players in the ‘hood. The other barber, in his early thirties, was a mild mannered, soft-spoken black man who stood about six-foot two at two hundred and fifty pounds. Needless to say, in that neighborhood, the meaning of "the right men for the right job" was key their longevity in that location.
One barber a tall, robust fella with a quick wit and knew all the names of the players in the ‘hood. The other barber, in his early thirties, was a mild mannered, soft-spoken black man who stood about six-foot two at two hundred and fifty pounds. Needless to say, in that neighborhood, the meaning of "the right men for the right job" was key their longevity in that location.
The reason why I tell this story is because a young boy
walked into the barbershop, he was 17 or 18 years old. His pants were sagging,
way down below his butt, exposing his underwear. He was thin with very dry skin
and his hair looked as if he spent the night in the corner of vacant lent
factory. In his conversation he wanted to be like the drug dealers and rappers
on the street – not understanding this is Minnesota, not New York – the chances
of you emulating 50 Cent in Minneapolis will probably only get you fifty-cents.
The two barbers told him, "To be in
this shop, you have to pull up your pants." Without hesitation, the young
boy pulled up his pants. “I’m from Chicago, this is they way we roll,” the
young boy told the barbers.
One barber asked the young boy, “Do you know how sagging
pants got started?” The young boy said, “No.” The barber explained, he did not
always own a business and made mistakes when he was young, which lead to some
time in prison. The barber told the boy, “When I was in prison, sagging pants
was a signal given off by the homosexuals in prison to alert others they were
available for sex.”
The boys eyes widened, he had a look of question on his face
as he held tightly to his pants – around his waist. The barber went on to
explain, “There is nothing sexy about letting your ass hang out in public,
unless you want someone who has been in prison and formed some bad behaviors to
be attracted to you for sex.”
The barber looked at the other barber and said,
“We should start a belt campaign on the corner of Bryant Avenue North and West
Broadway. Every young buck that walks by with his pants sagging below his butt,
we’ll give him a brand new belt and tell him the origin of saggy pants.”
The one barber turned and looked at the other barber and
said, “But what if a female walks down the street with her pants sagging?” The
barber said, “If I ever see that, we are lost for real.”
It’s funny how when you don’t expect an education, you learn
in the strangest places.
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