Skip to main content

The Barber Shoppe

Podcast  – The Barber Shoppe . . .


No man is rich enough to buy back the past.” – Oscar Wilde.


With baseball still on hold, that quote certainly rings true, however, vivid memories at unexpected times can flood the present.


Driving home from an errand the other night, I happened to turn the car radio to AM 570 and heard this, “Its time for Dodger baseball.” That iconic start to a game on the radio from announcer Vin Scully.


“How is this possible,” I thought? There are no baseball games right now. And Vin Scully is retired!


That familiar voice on the radio however immediately took me back . . .


Cuba, Il., the early 1960s, Main Street Barber Shop.


You see, as a young boy, my first memory of Major League Baseball was not a game on television or a visit to a Major League park. The “game” was always background noise, from an old Zenith AM radio, on a green shelf, in our local barbershop, tuned to 720 WGN Chicago.

Monthly, my father would take my brothers and me for our haircuts to Main Street Barber Shop in Cuba. Its proprietor Bernard Lyons, the locals called him Cocky Lyons (never knew why), he was a rabid Cubs fan.

The ole' timers would congregate at the Shoppe to sit, listen to the game, and sometimes get a shave and a haircut. The sweet smell of Vitalis filled the air, the jars of blue liquid with combs on the shelf, and of course conversations about the plight of the Chicago Cubs.

Listen carefully and you can hear the sounds of that era - “Double play! “Number 10 Ron Santo makes a spectacular unassisted double play at third from a line drive off the bat of Cardinals left fielder Curt Flood!” Shouts Cubs’ announcer Jack Brickhouse.

It's funny, what makes that memory so vivid was my youngest brother's reaction to the barbershop visit. It was always a traumatic experience for him. 

“Well, Doc what'll it be for these boys, the usual?”

“Yes sir, they love the crew cut.”

My brothers always got the dreaded crew cut. And they hated it!

Anyway, muffled discussions could be heard, as patrons chewed the fat, "Santo is the best third basemen in baseball.”

“No, I'm afraid you're wrong, it's Ken Boyer, of the Cardinals," – instantly a hushed silence as the voice on the radio suddenly came to life - “Homerun Ernie Banks!

Cocky would pause from his work as my brother squirmed in the barber chair wailing, with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Me, I listened and calmly waited for my turn. Knowing that if my curly hair was cut too short Dad would never hear the end of it from Mom.

Hmmm, thinking back, this just might be the traumatic experience that compelled my brother to become a Cardinals fan?

Isn’t it funny what triggers a memory, a sound, a smell, the announcement of a baseball game on the radio! Guess I should make an appointment to get my haircut - it's going on four months now.

This is Patrick Ball, thanks for listening. See you in the next episode.

Comments

Russell Shor said…
Nothing like Baseball to revive memories. Like you Cubs fans, we Phillies fans measured our season dreams by small victories -- Richie Ashburn batting .300 or the team breaking .500 for the season.
Patrick Ball said…
Absolutely, thanks, Russ. My favorite player during that Era had to be Ernie Banks - Mr. Cub.

Most Popular of All Time

We Need Awe More Than Ever

In this episode, Why We Need Awe More Than Ever Yesterday morning, I slipped into the cool stillness of my backyard before dawn. The air was crisp, the silence deep—broken only by the faint rustling of leaves and the familiar calls of birds waking early. Then I looked up. A thin crescent moon hung low in the east, with Venus just above it like a shining jewel. The sky was clear and full of stars, and for a moment, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time: Awe! For thousands of years, the heavens have carried on their steady dance, untouched by human noise. No ruler, no election, no breaking news has ever changed their rhythm. And yet here I was, tempted to reach for my phone—to trade the eternal for the urgent. Instead, I stayed. I watched the moonrise, the sky slowly lighten, and the world around me stir. Ducks passed overhead in a loose V, hummingbirds zipped past to visit their feeder, pausing mid-air as if curious about me sitting so still. Little by little, the static in my mind f...

The Birth of a Cubs Legend

In this episode, The 162-Game Exhale — and the Birth of a Cubs Legend There’s a hush in the baseball world on Game 162 — a collective breath drawn in and slowly released. Scoreboards stop flipping. Dugouts empty. For six months, the game has been our steady heartbeat, pulsing from the cherry blossoms of Tokyo in March to the crisp, playoff-charged winds of late September. And now, as the regular season exhales, baseball fans everywhere pause to absorb the story we’ve just lived. For me, that story has been deeply personal. This season unfolded in the rhythms of my daily life. It was the summer soundtrack echoing beneath the constant turmoil of politics and sensational headlines. It was a handful of carefully chosen ballpark pilgrimages stitched together with countless nights in front of MLB.TV. And at the center of it all, for a lifelong Cubs fan like me, it revolved around one name — a young center fielder who turned hope into history: Pete Crow-Armstrong. The 2025 season didn’t begin...

The Silent Grid–Part Two

In this episode, The Silent Grid – Part Two Sirens split the night as Greenwood went dark. Marvin knew instantly—the blackout wasn’t an accident. It was a warning. In this quiet town, where life once unfolded at a predictable pace, a sleek, intuitive smartphone—a so-called gift from the future —has arrived. But it’s no tool for connection. It’s a silent force, erasing individuality and turning neighbors into something less than human. Marvin Gellborn, a man who values independence, sees the truth. His device isn’t helping; it’s testing him, watching him, and quietly embedding itself into the life of Greenwood. Welcome back to On the Fly . In this week’s episode of The Silent Grid , GridBot tightens its grip. After a hopeful community gathering, Marvin and his robot companion, Norman, notice a troubling absence—the very generation they hoped to reach has vanished into the neon glow of The Signal Box , a youth tech hub pulsing with digital obsession. When Greenwood’s lights vanish, Marvi...

The Pessimism Aversion Trap

In this episode, The Pessimism Aversion Trap Picture this: a room full of bright minds nodding in agreement as a bold new strategy is unveiled. The slides are polished, the vision is grand, and the future, we're told, has never looked brighter. Everyone beams—because who wants to be the one to say, "Um… this might not work"? Heaven forbid someone spoil the mood with a dose of reality. Better to smile, add a buzzword or two, and march confidently toward disaster. That's how the Pessimism Aversion Trap works. Even now, I can still hear the sound—a high-pitched shriek and a digital hum, followed by the slow, rhythmic clatter of data pouring from a 5¼-inch floppy disk. It was the late 1980s, and my makeshift home office (our living room) was dominated by what felt like a marvel of modern engineering: a used Tandy 1000 PC with not one, but two floppy drives. To top it off, we purchased a 'blisteringly fast' 300-baud modem—which, for the uninitiated, could downloa...