Any time I go on vacation, I not only enjoy the present moment far beyond my usual consciousness level seems to allow while perched in my favorite chairs in front of my computer and my television, but I also flash back on vivid memories from the past.
On the little two night cruise, my mind drifted back to my dad’s first beauty salon in Belmont Shores. It was really pretty small, with no more than three or four stylists ever working in it, but my dad earned enough to support our family all the way until I finished high school. I remember sitting on the tile floor playing with toy cowboys while Mom and Dad assembled panels to divide the hair stations. Those natural wood panels were painted pink, with black in the wood grain on the bottom 2/3, and then horizontally striped opague glass, framed in stainless steel, on the top third. 
I must have been about two at the time. In retrospect, it's amazing to me that they took the chance of opening that place with a young family and then made it work. There would be no government bailout if it failed, and yet they had invested about every penny they had saved up until that point in that salon.
When the inevitable summer slowdown would come in early August, Dad didn't go into a panic mode and tell us to cut back. No. He would move his appointments and take advantage of the lull to drive us to Alabama for a week or two for summer vacation, making many great stops along the way. There’s no way he could have known if his customers would find a new salon while he was gone. There was no way he could be sure that vandals wouldn’t destroy that place. And yet, off we would go, often in a relatively new car that he had bought with dealer financing.
We were really fortunate to be raised by such wonderful parents who truly loved us and protected us from worrying about finances. By the way, it was elements of the décor of Carnival Splendor that sent me on this mental journey. In different places around the ship, including the elevators, there were patterns of pink with black wood grain, although Carnival’s pink was more hot while the beauty salon was more subdued to the point of almost looking natural.
I started thinking about when I was in fourth and fifth grade and took guitar lessons from Campbell’s Music Studio, three doors over from Weslie’s Hair Styling. I would ride into Belmont Shores with Dad on Saturday mornings, listening to country music on the radio.
I distinctly remember Marty Robbins's "El Paso," lots of songs by Johnny Cash, "Counting Flowers on the Wall," and my favorite, which was about some guy who brought a deck of cards to church and then, as I recall, had to explain the religious meaning to him of each card when the minister caught him with them. While hanging out for an hour or so in that pink beauty salon before my guitar lessons started, Dad would have me clean some ashtrays and then possibly go down to Morry's Market for some donuts for the customers and me. Some days, I was there longer, hanging out in the afternoon after the lessons. I remember being fascinated by some magnetic earrings he had on a cardboard display case. I would take out two of the magnet parts of the earrings and try to push them together. I would also spend time looking up at the modern black clock to see how long I could hold my breath, always trying to improve on my record and reach two minutes, which I never quite did.
It seemed like that period of my life went on forever, but I think it was probably less than two years. By the end of fifth grade, I was in too much of a hurry to get outside to play baseball, basketball or football with my friends to take time for guitar lessons and Saturdays at the beauty salon, but they were all great times.
On the little two night cruise, my mind drifted back to my dad’s first beauty salon in Belmont Shores. It was really pretty small, with no more than three or four stylists ever working in it, but my dad earned enough to support our family all the way until I finished high school. I remember sitting on the tile floor playing with toy cowboys while Mom and Dad assembled panels to divide the hair stations. Those natural wood panels were painted pink, with black in the wood grain on the bottom 2/3, and then horizontally striped opague glass, framed in stainless steel, on the top third. 
I must have been about two at the time. In retrospect, it's amazing to me that they took the chance of opening that place with a young family and then made it work. There would be no government bailout if it failed, and yet they had invested about every penny they had saved up until that point in that salon.
When the inevitable summer slowdown would come in early August, Dad didn't go into a panic mode and tell us to cut back. No. He would move his appointments and take advantage of the lull to drive us to Alabama for a week or two for summer vacation, making many great stops along the way. There’s no way he could have known if his customers would find a new salon while he was gone. There was no way he could be sure that vandals wouldn’t destroy that place. And yet, off we would go, often in a relatively new car that he had bought with dealer financing.
We were really fortunate to be raised by such wonderful parents who truly loved us and protected us from worrying about finances. By the way, it was elements of the décor of Carnival Splendor that sent me on this mental journey. In different places around the ship, including the elevators, there were patterns of pink with black wood grain, although Carnival’s pink was more hot while the beauty salon was more subdued to the point of almost looking natural.I started thinking about when I was in fourth and fifth grade and took guitar lessons from Campbell’s Music Studio, three doors over from Weslie’s Hair Styling. I would ride into Belmont Shores with Dad on Saturday mornings, listening to country music on the radio.
I distinctly remember Marty Robbins's "El Paso," lots of songs by Johnny Cash, "Counting Flowers on the Wall," and my favorite, which was about some guy who brought a deck of cards to church and then, as I recall, had to explain the religious meaning to him of each card when the minister caught him with them. While hanging out for an hour or so in that pink beauty salon before my guitar lessons started, Dad would have me clean some ashtrays and then possibly go down to Morry's Market for some donuts for the customers and me. Some days, I was there longer, hanging out in the afternoon after the lessons. I remember being fascinated by some magnetic earrings he had on a cardboard display case. I would take out two of the magnet parts of the earrings and try to push them together. I would also spend time looking up at the modern black clock to see how long I could hold my breath, always trying to improve on my record and reach two minutes, which I never quite did. It seemed like that period of my life went on forever, but I think it was probably less than two years. By the end of fifth grade, I was in too much of a hurry to get outside to play baseball, basketball or football with my friends to take time for guitar lessons and Saturdays at the beauty salon, but they were all great times.
