we're engaged in dying. Which is it for you?
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|language, but nevertheless, it's extremely enjoyable.
When I added this book to my Reading List, I noted the author's last name, "Morris," which led me by association to a fond remembrance of a small, seemingly unimportant man named Cecil who lived, worked, and died in my hometown. He was a barber whom I spent a good bit of time with in his shop as a young boy.
As I was growing up, after graduation, I stopped going in to get my hairs cut, as I had hair down to my shoulders (and sometimes beyond). One day, on the way to work after electronics school, I stopped to get a trim. This was probably 1970 or 1971. There were his regular following sitting in the shop chatting when he broke out in a cold sweat, calling me a long-haired freak--me, the kid that use to idolize him, sitting in the shop and chitchatting with him, much like these other men!
Needless to say, I was taken aback. When we were done, he asked for $25! His haircuts at the time were $5 or $6.
Now, Only a Fleeting Memory
I didn't go back to Cecil for a long time after that. When I did, I was married with two little girls and it was probably 1985. I was a Mason Shoe's dealer as was Cecil, so we had a lot to chat about, other than catching up on the 15 years that had passed between.
I went to Cecil for some time after that, then I moved to Chicago where to took an associate editor's position with a national magazine. I did not see Cecil after that, so I have no idea whatever happened to him.
I decided to share all of this with you because anyone who had had an impact on your life should be recognized.
When I think back to Cecil and his family, who lived in the same neighborhood where I was, I remember that neither of his sons or his wife seemed to pay attention to him, be it out and about or in church. In time, they got a divorce and the sons went on their way, not looking back, or so it seems to me. I agonized for Cecil as I could tell that all of this disturbed him greatly, or at least I believed so.
Allow me to say that Cecil was so unimportant that when I ran a search in the local newspaper's obituary section using every conceivable keywords, he did not show up. In other words, it appears that no one took the time or paid the price to pay their last respects to his sordid life.