It was haircutting time at Wat Opot. Two local barbers came to us; sort of a Khmer (Cambodian) house call of sorts. I am sure it is well worth their trip as a dozen or more boys needed their expertise. When I came upon the sight dear ole’ Dad came to mind. Actually any barber shop I stumble upon brings back wonderful memories. When I went with Bhola to get his hair cut in Nepal, I sat and grew sad and then would grin at a recollection; a silly spontaneous action or gesture or sarcastic phrase my dad would blurt out.