So I land in Nashville on Tuesday with peach fuzz on my head and an overly gray beard on my unshaven face. Pam loves my “beard” - her word, not mine. For the sake of marital bliss and even the slightest chance of a bit of rumpy pumpy, I didn’t shave before I left.

But since today marks the start of our big Paradigm Shift Conference 2025, I decided to venture out in this incredible metropolis to get a haircut yesterday. If people were flying in from all over the country and the world, looking professional was the least I could do.

So I stepped out of the hotel and ventured onto Commerce Street. Then I walked down to 4th Avenue North and turned up the street to the barbershop I spotted on Google Maps.

The Barber Shop

What a lovely place! Black and white checkered flooring tiles, reminiscent of those I saw in Rembrandt’s House in Amsterdam, lie beneath the oversized leather barbershop chairs. Blue leather chairs sat in the back of the shop, allowing customers to wait comfortably for their turn. Tall columns and a finished cathedral ceiling lent a touch of class not usually found in such establishments. I loved the place.

I said, “Good morning. I don’t have an appointment. Could you fit me in?” The gentleman behind the counter said, “Sure. 10 am is our next open slot. Is that ok?” Seeing as that was only 30 minutes away, I replied in the affirmative.

Before sitting down in the waiting area, I ventured out to grab a cup of coffee across the street. Returning to those blue leather chairs to wait, I comfortably settled in to see how the market was trading.

Thrilled that gold and silver had rallied hard, the barber called my name, and over I went to sit in the giant leather chair. “What are you having today?” I gave an instruction that is universally understood across the barbershop world: “I’ll have the Elmer Fudd.”

The Treatment

He immediately knew, as they all do. Next, the barber confirmed I wanted a wet shave on my head and face. But first, he took an electric razor to my bald pate to get the extraneous hair off my head. Once the brush was cleared, he proceeded to apply hot towels to my face and head to soften my skin. Lotion followed as he readied the straight razor.

For 35 minutes, I was in a state of bliss. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I lay back while the barber plied his trade expertly. No hair was left, save my eyebrows, once he had wielded his sharp weapon.

He then applied a cold towel to my face and head to close up my pores. The barber warned me that the after-shave he would use would be spicy, as I felt the gentle sting of alcohol on my pate.

“It’s as smooth as the day you were born,” he said, as I rubbed my head, confirming his boast. “It sure is.”

I thanked him as I walked over to the counter to pay. The cashier smiled and asked if I’d be paying with cash or a card. I said, “Card,” as he turned the newfangled electronic payment machine toward me.

The Money Shot

$93.75.

The screen read, “$93.75.”

Despite having my eyes lasered some 20 years ago, I squinted to ensure I was seeing the number correctly. Realizing I was pursing my lips, I relaxed my face.

I never want to seem like I can’t afford something I purchased. And, of course, I can afford a $93.75 haircut. But I would never consciously choose to pay $93.75 for a haircut. If you’re wondering why I wouldn’t, please refer to my mugshot at the top of this article.

I’m friggin’ bald!

This haircut worked out to $2 per hair.

“What tip would you like to give?” was the next thing I saw on the screen. Of course, being the mug I am, I thought, “In for a penny, in for a pound,” and gave a generous tip as it was indeed a great haircut and the barber shouldn’t be punished for his firm’s pricing.

“Would you like a receipt?” I practically jabbed my finger through the No button on the screen. Because if I wanted to be reminded of my stupidity, I could just ask my wife to give me a rundown.

A $100 haircut. In Nashville. Not even NYC. For reference, I pay EUR 15 ($17.50) for the same cut in Asti. That means I spent about 6x as much in Tennessee.

I honestly don’t know how the average American gets on nowadays.

Wrap Up

President Trump should’ve emptied the BLS Building of its staff, and then made them stand in front of the building as he razed it to the ground. And then fired all of them.

Inflation at 3%? Piss off. It simply can’t be. I just don’t believe any of the nonsense stats the government vomits out nowadays.

The wonder isn’t why gold and silver are roofing it. The remarkable thing is that it’s taken so long.

Ok, time for my speech! Have a great day!