Dimples slay me.
Regardless of race, age, creed, color or sexual orientation, dimples have always slayed me.
They were the first thing I noticed about Tori. The second was the fact that we were sitting at a picnic table talking to this sixteen year-old girl who had a hundred year-old soul.
Her blue-green eyes were steady as she recalled the story of how she ended up in Wewoka, Oklahoma. About the happiest day of her life. And about horrific acts of violence and abuse she had experienced in her short lifetime.
Carefree adolescents swirled around us – biking, skating, and joking with each other while she talked. And when we were finished, I wanted to hit someone and make them pay for the pain and trauma they had caused her. Instead, we took a few pictures and went on our way.
But in the car to the next town, I think Rachel and I were a little more quiet than usual.
There is one person in my life aside from my family, who I trust more than anyone. Of course this person is my hair dresser.
When I first moved to Stillwater from my hometown of Haworth, the thought of switching to a new hair stylist scared me more than being on my own. My freshman year I made a six hour drive every four weeks to get my hair colored and styled by Tonya, the lady who had been doing my hair for as long as I can remember.
One day I took a leap of faith and a friend’s advice, and tried a new, young girl in Stillwater, who just graduated from cosmetology school. Catie was her name, I was anxious, but when I was done and she turned my chair around and a smile filled my face and I immediately became a loyal client of Catie’s.
The relationship you form with your hair dresser is all about trust. Being someone’s client is your way of saying ‘I trust you with my life’ well for a girl it is anyway, because our hair is pretty important to us and that is what Linda Keeton said to Emanuel Perry. The moment I saw the relationship they had between one another I could tell Keeton wasn’t nervous at all. She knew from previous experience that Perry knew exactly what he was doing. While spending the day at Tulsa Technology Center’s Cosmetology Program, I saw the desire and work ethic Perry exhibited, and the way his instructor Sarah Ruleford spoke about him impressed me even more. Perry received a bachelor’s degree in accounting and worked in that industry for two years, but he wanted to expand on his creative talents, and a talent that I believe will take him far in the cosmetology industry. Perry’s life is changing styles.
Stylin’ Stylist from Alisa Hines on Vimeo.
Podcast: Play in new window
One thing about my job I enjoy is bringing stories to people about places in Oklahoma that most don’t realize are there. Many don’t know that Oklahoma used to have a growing vineyard and wine industry back before statehood and prohibition. But prohibition changed that and the industry died on the vine.
Even with the repeal of prohibition, it still took nearly 40 years for the industry to reemerge into the burgeoning wine industry it is today. Unfortunately, many people are unaware that we even have vineyards in our state. But the Oklahoma Agritourism Department is changing that for the better.
In this week’s blog, we look at how Oklahoma Agritourism is putting Oklahoma’s wine industry on the map. Hopefully it will help interest you into touring an Oklahoma vineyard near you.
Oklahoma Wine Trails from Alisa Hines on Vimeo.
Would you like a warm up? It’s one of the greatest questions posed by the dining service industry in this fine land of ours. If you look broadly across the blessing of the English language landscape, you may find it to be that, and so much more.
One of my fondest early memories in life is going to breakfast with my dad on Saturday mornings to a small diner in an even smaller town. Quinlan, Texas, won’t make the list of Every Point on the Map given it’s proximity south of the Red River, and its a shame in some ways, for Quinlan in the early 70′s was vintage “good people” country.
I have an old friend who likes to say “denial is more than a river in Egypt”. Amen to that, but I would add that the Red River, likewise, is more than just a boundary between Oklahoma and that neighbor to its south.
Which brings us to today’s topic. Where does any of this fit within the genre of “27 hats”, you might ask? Well, topper 12 of 27, save one, is from Red River, the resort town in New Mexico, not the tributary to our south. It has been the selected hat for this post for almost a month now, but as I told our friend RDK in an email after writing the similarly themed post on 11 of 27, I’ve been finding myself at a loss for words. And, likewise, this morning, I concur that it’s OK.
Red River, New Mexico, at least for me, for many years was a place of mythical legend. I had never been there. Continue reading
The bar stools in Pookie’s restaurant have born much more than the weight of those who have sat and eaten “burgers made with love” years on end.
They have born the weight of conversations about Boley exchanged by their occupants.
About the school closing three years ago.
About how to help people feel safe even when there is an occasional prison escapee in the area.
About whether Willie Williams’ bucking bull will be of such quality to draw a premium price at sale, and how they need good counselors at the substance abuse treatment center down the road.
About how the history of their community is best told by some of the oldest, and how they wish those elders were present to talk about Boley instead.
About how good last year’s rodeo was, or about planning the next one.
About their town’s dwindling population, and “what kind of ideas can we come up with” to encourage the “young folks to move back and raise their families.”
Those bar stools have stood as silent witnesses Continue reading