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Hairy Story
The same old Spin on the haircut
by Kent Lewis

Spiradon "Spin" Nicon was always a popular guy in high school. The ladies adored him and the guys respected him. He had a knack for always being in the right place at the right time, and like the shark, had no natural enemies. He was, of course, Prom King and class president senior year.

In middle school, he started cutting hair for family and friends. Early on, it was free, but word spread quickly. In high school, he started charging $3, just to "keep out the riffraff." He was well-known at school for giving the "perfect fade" side trim.

Spin cut my hair once a month through high school and college. To go anywhere else would be blasphemy. He knew every follicle on my head and would sculpt it perfectly every time. He didn't even have to ask what I wanted; he intuitively knew.

It was more than just a cut, though. Harkening back to his grandfather's barber days, his residence became a social gathering place where you could get the latest gossip over a beer, play ping-pong and listen to cool music while you waited.

Once we graduated from college and went our separate ways, I was forced to fend for myself in a Spin-free environment. Many a time my hair suffered for it. I did keep in touch with Spin and followed his career, hoping he’d move south. After a brief stint in the music business, he elected to go for an official barber's license. Two years later, he opened his own place.

If I'm ever up in Seattle on a weekday, I make sure to stop by his shop in Wallingford. It's no longer three bucks and I have to make a reservation a week or two in advance, but it's worth it. As Spin always says, "What’s the difference between a good cut and a bad cut? Two weeks."