The Wednesday Profile #7 Ben Mackenzie, Hairdresser

When do you know you've really made it as a businessman? 

In the days leading up to the start of the new school term in August after the summer holidays my brother Iain and I (6/2 Oxgangs Avenue); the Hanlons (6/7); and dozens of other small boys would be taken up the hill to Ben Mackenzie's to get our hair cut to look smart for our return to Hunters Tryst for the start of another school year. 

Despite some of the images of unhappy kids produced over the years by artists and comments from others I quite enjoyed the whole barbering experience.

Ben's shop was located at the back of the Oxgangs Broadway shops at number 18 on the south facing side. 

It was the furthest away shop from The Stair. 

Ben was a great advert for his business - neat, immaculate and dapper, with brylcreamed greying hair and a little moustache; in some ways he was a walking advertisement for his profession. But not necessarily a good barber. 

Ronnie Cutt felt you were 'lucky to come out with your ears intact!' Whilst Doreen Rutherford Black said her sister, Margaret, went in for a ladies trim and he mistook her for a boy! Margaret retorted that her mum 'made me wear a hat for a month lol!'

Anne Mckenna said 'I remember my mum complaining about his poor barbering. I think she sent my dad back to complain or went herself at some point...the lack of mothers' involvement probably explains how he got away with it for so long.'

We usually had to sit in a queue in his shop but there were always some decent comics to sit and read. 

Also older men would 'pull your leg' whilst chatting up the mothers - it was my mother who usually always took us along to ensure Ben did what was wanted. 

When the great moment arrived to have your hair cut, because we were small, we had to sit on this little cross bench which was laid across the arm rests of the barber's chair which I thought was pretty cool.

Ben was never this bad, but the barber bears more than a passing resemblance to him!

Ben would set to work and the haircut was always finished off with some 'jungle juice' which he plastered our hair down with; as I had wavy hair I liked this and regretted it never stayed that way for long.

We were never allowed number ones which the Hanlons got. 

The only way we ever got a number one was when Iain and I gave ourselves self-administered haircuts at home one day when my mother was out at work!

Norma Fraser said 'My dad always said (when my brothers were sent there) down to the wood. One style only.' Similarly Brian N Cherie Clement said 'when I was young I went down with my old man and used to ask for a trim; my dad obviously had signalled to Ben and I ended up being scalped - was not impressed.' Neil McGilvray said 'Big Chief Ben gave everyone the same haircut.'

Anyway, when you returned to school, the opening remarks or soubriquet from your pals was, 'Aye Peter, ah see you've had a Ben Mackenzie!' aka a BIG Ben schoolie! (Alan Robertson)

When you're name becomes a trademark, that's when you've really made it in business!

The Sunday Post #3 On the Cusp of the Year and the Return to School

Whilst summer is not quite yet on the heels of early autumn, still the above scene signifies the dreaded return to school after the summer holidays and the start of a new autumn school term. 

The photograph taken up at Swanston Road with the T Woods in the background on the lower slopes of the Pentland Hills and a local farm worker atop a cart and horse carrying hay making gentle progress up the slope on a golden afternoon hints at the cusp when summer very slowly moves toward autumn.

It was on such afternoons throughout the 1960s and on to 1972 that I along with the other twenty four children from the stair at 6 Oxgangs Avenue contemplated our return to the classroom. 

And yet perversely, quite often the weather remained similarly fine and sunny which made it a struggle to return to stifling classrooms at Hunters Tryst, Firrhill and Boroughmuir schools. Those of us with an awareness of the English system would be envious that our peers across the border wouldn't return until September, which seems much more sensible.

For most of the kids we didn't really want to go back, even if by the back end of the holidays being off school had perhaps lost a little of its sparkle. 

I've no doubt though that a few others like Gavin Swanson (6/1 Oxgangs Avenue) who were more studious actually looked forward to the start of the autumn term and the new school academic year. I don't think I ever did, but there was always a certain 'buzz' about going back. 

The boys had visited the hairdresser at Oxgangs Broadway for a Ben Mackenzie haircut - Michael; Boo-Boo; Brian and Alan Hanlon will have had their number ones, whilst Iain Hoffmann and I had our hair plastered down with Ben's famous jungle juice. 

For those with new schoolbags (and that unforgettable smell of leather) or new school clothes and ties or perhaps those going up to secondary for the first time, many will recall these days with a mixture of excitement and pleasure, but pain might be too extreme a word choice!

Many of us were keen to squeeze the last drops from the summer fruits and as the countdown began we managed to play amongst the hay in the fields at Swanston; have grass fights with the mown grass in the front garden of 6/2 Oxgangs Avenue; or late evening games of kick-the can or British Bulldog up at the field.

Bike runs were still taking place - I note that on the 11th August 1972, Paul Forbes (Oxgangs Place); Boo-Boo Hanlon (6/7 Oxgangs Avenue); Iain Hoffmann and I cycled from Oxgangs down through Arthur's Seat to Portobello whilst young Colin Hanlon cycled so far. 

Photograph, Wullie Croal

There was still a certain continuity in our lives as milk runs and paper runs were still being undertaken, because not many of us from the stair went away on holiday.

For a few summers we enjoyed our mini-Olympics at the army's former running track at Redford Barracks which were great fun. We might even manage a final visit to go jumping the burn at Colinton Mains through to the Braid-Burn Valley, but by then the grass and wild flowers and weeds and nettles had perhaps become too overgrown. 

And if it was wet, Iain, Paul and I would enjoy card games with members of the Blades family or play mischievously with their giant tape-recorder with Paul blowing great rasps onto the tape.

Four of the six Blades girls and Anne Hoffmann circa 1963

The cusp of the year was further illustrated and articulated through the school calendar.

But on reflection, what was truly lovely about the summer was that it brought many of us at the stair together whilst school would unfortunately divide us. 

At the start of the autumn term the Duffys (6/8) returned to St Augustine's whilst the Hanlons (6/7); the Hoggs (6/4); Norman Stewart (6/3); the Swansons (6/1); and the Hoffmanns were divided up between Boroughmuir; Firrhill; the Royal High; and of course Hunters Tryst. 

The cusp was thus metaphorical and literal.

On The Cusp Of the Year

Today is Thursday, 15th August, 2013. It's the last day of the year since, on a whim, I first started the blog, The Stair, on Thursday 16 August, 2012. On the cusp of the year, both for the blog and when late summer is just turning to early autumn I thought I would display this lovely photograph of the season. 

The photograph has been taken up at Swanston Road with the T Woods in the background on the lower slopes of the Pentland Hills. A local farm worker is atop a cart and horse carrying hay; they are making gentle progress up the slope on a golden afternoon at the cusp as summer turns to autumn.

It was on such afternoons throughout the 1960s and on to 1972 that I along with the other twenty four children from The Stair contemplated our return to the classroom. Quite often the weather remained similarly fine and sunny which made it a struggle to return to stifling classrooms at Hunters Tryst, Firhill and Boroughmuir Schools. Those of us with an awareness of the English system would be envious that our peers across the border wouldn't return until September.

For most of the kids we didn't really want to go back-even if by the back end of the holidays being off school had perhaps lost a little of its sparkle. I've no doubt though that a few others like Gavin Swanson who were more studious actually looked forward to the start of the autumn term and the new school academic year. I don't think I ever did, but there was always a certain 'buzz' about going back. 

The boys had visited Ben Mackenzie for a haircut-Michael; Boo-Boo; Brian and Alan Hanlon will have had their number ones, whilst Iain Hoffmann and I had our hair plastered down with jungle juice. 

For those with new schoolbags (and that unforgettable smell of leather) or new school clothes and ties or perhaps those going up to secondary for the first time many will recall these days with a mixture of excitement and pleasure, but pain might be too extreme a word choice!

Many of us were keen to squeeze the last drops from the summer fruits and as the countdown began we managed to play amongst the hay in the fields at Swanston; have grass fights with the mown grass in the front garden of 6/2 Oxgangs Avenue; or late evening games of kick-the can or British Bulldog at The Field. Bike runs were still taking place-I note that in August 1972 Paul Forbes; Boo-Boo Hanlon; Iain Hoffmann and I cycled through Arthur's Seat to Portobello whilst young Colin Hanlon cycled so far. On another occasion Boo-Boo, Iain and I watched a world record at the Edinburgh Highland Games-little did I realise that a few years later I would take part myself. 

There was still a certain continuity in our lives as milk runs and paper runs were still being undertaken, because not many of us at The Stair went away on holiday other than Liz Blades to Stonehaven; Anne Hoffmann to our New Town cousins; or Alison and Fiona Blades; Iain; Paul and I camping at Stobo, Peebles. 

For a few summers we enjoyed our Mini-Olympics at the army's former running track at Redford Barracks which were great fun. We might even manage a final visit to go jumping the burn at Colinton Mains through to the Braid-Burn Valley, but by then the grass and wild flowers and weeds and nettles had perhaps become too overgrown. 

And if it was wet, Iain, Paul and I would enjoy card games at The Blades with Fiona and the girls or play mischievously with their giant tape-recorder with Paul blowing great rasps onto the tape.

The cusp of the year was further illustrated and articulated through the school calendar.What was truly lovely about the summer was that it brought many of us at The Stair together whilst school would unfortunately divide us. At the start of the autumn term The Duffys returned to St Augustine's whilst The Hanlons; The Hoggs; Norman Stewart; The Swansons; and The Hoffmanns were divided up between Boroughmuir; Firhill; The Royal High; and of course Hunters Tryst. The cusp was thus metaphorical and literal.

And on this last day of the year of the blog whilst it should perhaps be a time for reflection I'm not inclined to go down that road, and for whatever reason I'm not inclined to quite bring down the curtain on it-and certainly not before I do a Where Are They Now blog-and even that of course is unlikely to be a final hurrah.

So, on the cusp of the year after a golden 2013 summer good luck in your adventures-and I look forward to meeting and hearing from old acquaintances and making new. And by way of update, one former member at The Stair, Fiona Blades has been accepted to undertake a PhD whilst I'm joining Iain Hoffmann on holiday to Portugal. Any updates from others would be welcome!

Airfix, Cellophane and a Ben-Mackenzie!

When do you know you've really made it as a businessman? In the days leading up to the start of school in August after the school summer holidays Iain and I, like the Hanlons and dozens of other little boys would be taken up the hill to Ben Mackenzie's to get our hair cut to look smart for our return to school for the start of another school year. Despite some of the images produced over the years by artists I enjoyed the whole experience.

Ben's shop was located at the back of the Oxgangs Broadway shops on the south facing side. It was the furthest away shop from The Stair. Ben was a great advert for his business-he was neat, immaculate and dapper, with brylcreamed grey hair and a little moustache-he was a walking advertisement for his profession.

We usually had to sit in a queue in his shop but there were always decent comics to sit and read. Also older men would 'pull your leg' whilst chatting up the mothers-it was my mother who usually always took us along. When the great moment arrived to have your hair cut, because we were small we had to sit on this little cross bench which was laid across the arm rests of the barber's chair which I thought was pretty cool.

Ben was never this bad, but the barber bears more than a passing resemblance to Ben!

Ben would set to work and the haircut was always finished off with some 'jungle juice' which he plastered one's hair down with-as I had wavy hair I liked this and regretted it never stayed that way for long.

We were never allowed number ones which the Hanlons got. The only way we ever got a number one was when Iain and I gave ourselves haircuts at home one day when my mother was out at work!

Anyway, when you returned to school, the opening remarks or soubriquet from your pals was, 'Aye Peter, ah see you've had a Ben Mackenzie!'

When you're name becomes a trademark, that's when you've really made it in business!