Owner Scott Ommen of 2½ Happy Barbers shares a laugh with long-time customer Dan Huckins. Says Ommen: “You’ve got to love to talk to people.”

Photo: Helen Anne Gately

“You trying to stay out of trouble?” Scott greets Dan as he enters the 2-1/2 Happy Barbers shop for his monthly cut.
Dan replies, “I’m trying to, but it ain’t easy.”

Dan Huckins eases into one of the shop’s green leather vintage barber chairs as he has every month for a decade. Dan is a quick-witted senior who prefers the barbershop experience to salons. He lives in Phinney Ridge, but makes the trek cross-town to the Ballard barbershop because he knows what he is getting.

Like a matador in the bullring, shop owner Scott Ommen swoops a hair cape around Dan and whirls into action, comb and razor in hand. Dan lucked out by inheriting his mother’s genes for a full head of hair. He boasts a healthy head of wavy silvery hair. Dan says his two sons are envious. He chuckles, “They want to kill me.” He has been going to barbers all his life. Dan’s grandfather was a barber and blind. “He could cut hair just by the feel of it.”

Scott is a master of his instruments. With an upward motion of the hand, the music begins. He is superbly focused while chatting and laughing away with Dan. His mission is clear and his actions are precise. Dan does not stir. He has complete confidence in the maestro.

Ommen with customer Mike Naehr.

Photo: Helen Anne Gately

The shop is a one-room, brightly lit mirrored platform for hair cutting. Floral patterned curtains have a homey yet masculine appeal. There’s nothing feminine about the place. And Scott prefers it that way. It’s a manly man’s hang-out.

The room’s dominating features are the two ‘40s-era green leathered upholstered Kokon barbershop chairs. “They are the real thing. Scott proudly explains. “They don’t make chairs last this long anymore.” They are durable and surprisingly comfortable. There is a lever on one side that easily releases the backrest into a reclining position, the position used for facial shaves. The chair’s footrest is designed of hardy stainless steel and embossed with the Kokon name. For added comfort, the footrest can be flipped to a padded side.

Ommen displays his collection of vintage straight-edged razors.

Photo: Helen Anne Gately

Old-fashioned barber products are perched in plain view on the counter top. Scott picks up a bottle of Bay Rum Fragrant Skin toner: “All the old people just love this.” The toner, created in 1897, is applied to the skin as a body rub or aftershave. It’s a soothing finishing touch after a straight-edge razor cut. It can be applied to the back of the neck and face. The scent transports people right back to their childhood. The smell is reminiscent of every dad in America after a visit to the barber.

Scott opens the top drawer of the counter and pulls out a collection of vintage straight-edged razors. “I’ve got all kinds of cool ones,” he boasts. These types of razors fell out of use because of the liability involved in handling them. Scott says they are so sharp that you could easily cut a person’s neck if you don’t know how to handle them properly. He demonstrated the proper way to hold the razor, grasping it by the heel, a small u-shaped piece of metal located at the base of the razor, which gives the barber control.

“Barbers will last if they are good,” Scott says. “They have to know how to cut with clip and comb.” He refers to a barber’s technique that is rarely used anymore. “They taper up the back and sides, take a whole bunch off the back and leave holes like this,” he says, jesting with Dan.

Dan dishes back, complaining about the colic at the back of his head. He wishes Scott would take it out. Scott leaves it be. “Here’s the thing,” Dan says. “Over the years, barbers have lost out because of the long hair. I’ve always liked my hair short because it is more comfortable. And as long as this young man cuts it right and doesn’t screw up . . . I’ll keep coming back.” They both bust out in a fit of laughter.

“Young man” is right. Scott Ommen is just 27 years old. He has been cutting hair for nine years and has fulfilled his dream in opening his own barber shop. Scott got into the business because he loves cutting hair and wants to keep the whole tradition going with the straightedge razor cuts to flip-over comb work. His father once owned a shop in Magnolia. Scott learned the trade by working alongside him. He becomes sentimental for a moment, reminiscing about his father. “Those were some great years, working with my dad.” He goes on to describe how he and his father would exchange witty banter between each other and the customers. The customers loved it. The banter, in addition to the quality cuts they received, kept them coming back for more.

A big part of the barbershop culture is the chit-chat. “You got to love to talk to people,” explains Scott. “See, that’s why people come into the barbershop, because they can get a bad time. They can give it back and forth to me. That’s part of the business.” A barber has to be outgoing and a good storyteller. That is key in getting customers back in his chair. “That’s why customers come in. They want to hear your stories,” says Scott.
The former owner of Two and a Half Happy Barbers was renowned for his seafaring tales. A reminder of those deep-sea tales adorns one of the walls. A frighteningly large alien-like creature known as the Alaskan Brown King Crab hangs in memoriam on the wall. Scott says the kids get a kick out of it.

So why do some customers chose barbers over salons or franchises? “If they like ya and you do a good job, they’ll come back,” explains Scott. “Also, they know that you are the only one that will be cutting their hair. If you go into a franchise, you never know whom you are going to get. It most likely will be an amateur just starting out.”

Though Scott’s clients range from kids to senior citizens, seniors constitute the majority of his business. They are faithful customers and real treasures of the community. “They have been coming to barbers their whole (lives) and that’s what they are used to,” Scott says. “You get to know them well and then they pass on. It’s sad.” That’s one thing he dislikes about the business, saying good-bye to a generation. It is hard to keep the barbershop tradition going with a new and younger generation. Scott is trying to appeal to the younger audience by constantly providing good haircuts. He is open six days a week. That fact appeals to Mike Naehr, who has followed Dan into the barber’s seat.

Scott: “Same thing?”
Mike: “Yeah, it was good, a little short on top last time?”
Scott: “I think I did a ‘two’ last time?”
Mike: “Two on the sides? Top was little short but I told you to take a little more off the last time. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have questioned you.”
Scott: “I’ll take the blame, I’ve got big shoulders.”

They laugh and agree to go for two on the sides.

Ommen applies the finishing touches.

Photo: Helen Anne Gately

This is Mike’s second visit. He discovered the shop one day when he was driving by and spotted the familiar barber shop pole. He lives in Loyal Heights just up the hill. Why this barbershop? “The proximity,” Mike says. “And the hours are consistent. He’s open Saturdays.” Mike said he used to fall into that nine-to-five trap and could not get a haircut when he needed one. He prefers barbershops to the franchises. “You’re rolling the dice if you go into a place and you don’t know who you’re getting.”

Mike is a member of that next generation that Scott is striving to attract.

The word “barber” is derived from the Latin word “barba,” meaning beard. The barber was once the most important person in his community. The belief existed that good and bad spirits entered through the hairs on top of the head and could only be released by cutting. Barbers were known as medicine men and priests of their communities. Monks and priests were considered the most knowledgeable people in the first 10 centuries of the Christian era and were literally physicians of the dark ages. Clergymen enlisted barbers to act as assistants in attempt to cure the ill. Bloodletting or draining blood from a person’s body was a popular method in curing illnesses. By cutting the person’s arm open, it permitted the disease to escape the body. A rudimentary practice, it was taken quite seriously.
The practice of bloodletting continued until 1163 when The Council of Tours, a medieval Roman Catholic Church committee, ruled that it was sacrilege for a clergyman to draw blood from humans. Such acts were then left solely to barbers. Barbers, also known as surgeons, thrived and quickly expanded on their reputations by including dentistry into their practice.

That familiar barber pole possesses a significant meaning. The subtle and effective universal symbol hangs on the outside barber shops all over the world to let everyone know they are there. It was back in those good ol’ bloodletting days that the concept came about. The spiraling red, white and blue ribbons, often mistaken for patriotic representation, actually represented the bandaging that would wrap around a person’s arm during bloodletting. One band was twisted around the arm before bleeding, and the other band was used to bind the arm afterward.

A modest little shop: 2½ Happy Barbers in Ballard.

Photo: Helen Anne Gately

2-½ Happy Barbers is a modest little shop where customers come, not only to get a good haircut, but also as a place where they can shoot the breeze, whether it be about sports, cars or girls. Twenty minutes later, they leave the shop feeling and looking better than when they came in. Scott sees to that.

Scott brushed off the fallen hair from Dan’s neck, removed the hair cape and got Dan’s seal of approval for a job well done. Dapper and ready to greet the evening, Dan made his way to the door, then with a wide grin he turned back to make one last parting comment: “I come to the barber shop because I feel better when I’m well groomed. Don’t you?”