If you’re like me, you wasted several dozens of hours of your youth watching the Tanner family in action. I could spend at least twelve minutes going into detail about how the “cut it outs” and “how rudes” changed my life and made me the man I am today. But what I’d prefer to discuss is my hair.
I recently received an embarrassingly poor haircut. But I don’t blame the barber. I don’t blame myself either. I blame the system. You see, whenever I go to the barber, I never know what to say. I don’t take in a magazine clipping of a male model (not anymore), and I don’t have any grasp of cool hair-style lingo so I can’t say “Hey Tom, give me the Memphis Sizzler.” Since I get my haircut at a veritable co-op, I never have the same barber twice and I generally sit in the chair, take my beating and then head home where I complain to my ladyfriend about the atrocious cut I got. That is, until recently when I realized that the rules for effective barber/hair-cut-recipient communication are clearly outlined in Full House!
Men’s haircuts can be broken down into three distinct styles: the Danny, the Uncle Joey and the Uncle Jesse. If the entire cosmotology world can learn to distinguish between these, we could create a universal language by which all men can walk into any barber shop and get the cut he desires.
The Danny: clean-cut, respectable, no bells and whistles. With this hair cut, you won’t ever be asked to stand in a police line-up, but at the same time, you might be accused of being a douche bag.
The Uncle Joey: a little shaggy, a little unkempt. When you wear the Uncle Joey hairstyle, you’re telling people that you’re not afraid to color outside the lines, and if anyone gives you any shit, you’ll fire back an outdated impersonation.
The Uncle Jesse: Due to his status as a renaissance man of hair, it’s necessary to tackle Uncle Jesse’s hair in two separate eras.
1) The early years: bangs in the front, poof on top, long mane of hair in back. Classic 80s rocker look, the Early Uncle Jesse (abbreviated as “The EUJ,” pronounced “yuge”) is as hardcore as it gets. This look tells people you party all night long, run up twelve thousand dollar hotel bills and carry a little black book that looks like Webster’s Dictionary.
2) The later years: clean-cut on the sides, slight sideburns, a little spikey on top. Does life imitate art or vice versa? The Later Uncle Jesse (abbreviated as “LUJ,” pronounced “luge”) knows the answer, but he doesn’t give a shit enough to tell you. He’s a mature rocker, a father, and with this hair style tells people “I’m a responsible, law-abiding citizen, but don’t think I’m too old to throw down with an eight ball of coke and a fifth of wild turkey.”
If you read this, please pass the word on to your local barber. There’s a secret underground of barbers, a union, a brotherhood. Get this information in your barber’s hands, and quickly word will spread to barbers around the world. One day soon you can walk in to a random barber shop, take a seat, calmly turn to the barber and say: “I’ll have an Early Uncle Jesse. I’m feeling… dangerous.”
(from left to right: Uncle Joey, Uncle Jesse, Danny Tanner)
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