Reflections on A (Sometimes Absurd) Life – Forget Facebook. Ask the Barber Shop.

By Mary Tanck
PHMOmag Columnist

I often hear how the men and boys of Pleasant Hill are unusually well-coiffed compared to their peers in neighboring towns, especially Harrisonville. (Well, actually, I’ve never heard that, but I probably would if I were one of those eaves-dropping types.) The credit goes to all the great barbers in this town. I recently took my son to our friendly local barber, and it occurred to me that the barber shop is one of the very few things in our world that is the same today as it always was. Toby’s Barber Shop is largely indistinguishable from Floyd’s establishment in Mayberry.

Granted, today’s barber shop has more women sitting around than Floyd did, but they are the mothers of boys getting haircuts. Most women would not submit to having their freshly styled heads vacuumed, as luxurious as that sounds. But these places are, otherwise, fundamentally the same – from the rich scents of men’s shaving products to the décor on the walls. 

Going to the barber shop is like receiving a nice warm vintage hug from the past – or whatever the male equivalent of that is. Everyone is greeted with a warm welcome – and by warm welcome, I mean a friendly roasting insult. The barbers know your kin and will ask after them. Or, if you’re new to town (first or second generation), they will ask after your spouse and kids.

The barbers can give you the score of any game, at any level from recreation to professional, from the last week; with the noted exception of the 2026 Hungarian Grave Digging contest. (Shout out to my men Róbert Nagy and László Kiss on their winning time of 1 hour and 21 minutes!) They are also good for an off-color joke, as long as there are no little kids around.

Barber shops are known for being hubs of local information but, if you listen closely, you’ll realize the information is coming from the clients, not the barbers. Barbers are as closed lipped as your local pastor. No, it’s the construction workers and bus drivers who deliver information to the general public, using the barber shop as an efficient platform to spread all the noteworthy news.

If you ever need to know what’s going on in a small town, you should just head to the barber shop when you see your friendly local bus driver going. Construction workers have good gossip, but it’s on a larger scale; the bus drivers know what’s going on in town with everyone. They do, after all, drive by your house every day and listen to your kids talk.

High schoolers know even more than bus drivers; they tend to be reticent to share with adults, but there is always at least one who sings like a canary. If you want to know who cut down the Flock camera or who made those burn out marks on Raffurty (and, consequently, whose dad has bald rear tires now), go down to the Rooster football game and you’ll know soon enough. Want to know where the newest smoke shop is going in or when the new Price Chopper will open? Ask a PHHS freshman. 

People say teens don’t listen, but that’s not true. They hear everything, they just don’t let on. They are the champions of playing dumb. You might think that kid is sitting quietly in the barber chair because he’s too shy to speak, but he’s intently listening, observing and gleaning information like the KGB. There’s probably more than one operative among them, truth be told. They are that good. They knew the green bridge was being replaced with a beautiful concrete bridge monthsbefore MODOT even knew. It’s kind of creepy, really, but Floyd would be impressed. 

This week, I encourage you to go find joy. Hang out at your friendly local barber shop – we have 3 to choose from – and pretend you’re back in Mayberry where the pies are served warm and homemade and the bridges are all green. And maybe donate a package of baby wipes to your friendly local diaper bank (located at 1300 Lexington) while you’re at it.

Full disclosure: my son’s barber was the muse for this column. He makes a better barber than he does a muse, obviously.