I usually get my hair done by the missus. It saves money and she is unwilling to make me look bad. But since she started working, I was getting shaggy. After reading about Raymond's Barber Shop in The Houstonist I figured that was the place to go. I like going to the old-school barbers.
I got there, a couple of guys ahead of me, and a cop showed up afterwards. After removing it to sit down beside me, the cop asked me to keep an eye on his gun belt if he fell asleep. I don't know if he was joking. Between watching Divorce Court on TV and reading the Playboys and Penthouses supplied, he never feel asleep. The one-man operation was running slow, so I waited a good hour and a half. A long wait because the son was there without his father. When I got my haircut it looked fine, but not as good as my wife's work. My favorite part was that the two barber's chairs had ashtrays built into the armrests. I don't have that at home.
Went to Metro Retro Vintage on Washington. My wife and I once joked that we don't buy art; we buy lamps. The vintage place had this beautiful lamp, celebrating the Russian space program, that would have been a nice addition to our collection. A small, chrome rocket ship atop of a clear Lucite column of smoke and flame, lit orange from the inside. The Lucite column fanned out to make the base and around the bottom were symbols of Russian industry and history, such as factories, cars, a sword smashing a swastika. Far too pricey, but truly unique. Like so many things, something else that would look great in the apartment that we will never have.
I encountered the nicest postal employee while trying to use an automated mail system in the foyer of the local post office. The blank look of stupidity and confusion on my face must have tipped off the postal carrier. She came over and just plugged everything into the machine's menus.
"Yes, it's over 3/4s of an inch, no, you don't want this delivery confirmation crap..." Etc, etc, and so on until the label was printed and applied to the package and she put it in the slot to start it on its journey. She looked at the receipt the machine spit out and said something like, "After all that, don't forget to go online and enter the drawing for ten thousand dollars." Nice.
After that I went to Domy Bookstore, which I had read about but never visited. Full of beautiful graphic novels, art books, plushes and all sorts of other things that I didn't need but really wanted. I left without spending a dime but wished I could have bought a book on the London graffiti artist Banksy.
Party with the wife's coworkers that night. From what my wife has been saying her new job is turning out quite well and the party was more of the same goodness. Verdict: nice non-snobs who made the spouses and significant others feel right at home.
After an afternoon slacking off at the house I hit about six galleries in the evening. I joined a former Atlantan, who, like myself is employed by the arts. We both relocated to Houston at almost the same time and it was nice to see a familiar face. Funny thing about the galleries was that all they were within walking distance of my new place and I didn't even know about them. We were both really surprised that the opening ended at 8pm. In our experience, most art events like this run until 9 or 10 pm. It seemed to cut short the party, so we headed over to the Alabama Ice House for her first time and my second. It was a good introduction; the Rollerderby Girls were doing fundraising, dogs were running about, and a girl was twirling fire while a band played on the main stage. I'm liking the Icehouse more and more. $2.25 Lonestar beers, can't go wrong there.
Cleaning house, laundry, a quick trip to M2 Gallery in the Heights to see the 600 sq mi: Photos From Houston show, and blogging