This isn’t a sad story because there are two happy endings. But it starts with a bit of nostalgia for an Ocean Beach that is no more. First was the pet store on Cable Street and Newport Avenue. Then the great little breakfast place next door to it, run by the sweet Korean couple. Then came Paras Bookstore, The Coronet and the old men’s store on Bacon Street and Newport Avenue. All gone. Now, it’s the Clip Joint. Ocean Beach is losing another longtime business institution, this time to retirement. I am talking, of course, about Ron Pilcher, the man behind the chair at the Clip Joint for 39 years. Ron and his wife are building a home in a gated community near Tucson, Ariz., where Ron plans to play golf and be on his feet only when he feels like it. That is a happy ending to a long, talkative career. He probably won’t be resting his gums, though. Ron has always liked a good conversation, which was the best thing about getting clipped at the Clip Joint. The other happy ending is at the end of this piece.
Ron’s small shops sat on the corner of Santa Monica Avenue and Sunset Cliffs Boulevard across from the library, and had a good view of the street. When I walked up for the very first time, looking desperately for a new barber home, I saw a slowly spinning, old-style barber pole outside the door and thought, “That’s a good sign.” When I walked inside, I felt at home right away because it looked just like an old-style barber shop. The only real difference was Ron only cut hair by appointment — no walk-ins. But that was great, because there was no waiting.
Inside the shop was a small couch and a chair, and a table with lots of magazines. I later discovered there were some different magazines, but Ron kept those in a drawer for some reason. There was an old-fashioned coat rack. There was some sports memorabilia here and there, a picture of one of the Bee Gees on the wall with poufy haircuts and wide-lapel, paisley shirts. No wait, sorry, that was a picture of Ron from the 1970s. There were four chairs. And standing behind one was an old-style barber in a blue smock, the perfect final touch to the setting. As it turned out, the guy did a great haircut, too. And so I stayed. Over the many years, I got to know Ron well. Some years ago, I was interviewed by a reporter doing a story about Ron and was asked to say something about him. I said that going to see Ron was like visiting a friend and just happening to get a haircut at the same time. Ron liked that, and he hung the story on the wall and told me his customers liked it and agreed with the sentiment. Everybody likes Ron.
Ron hails from the Midwest. After mustering out of the military in California, Ron decided to attend a barber school on the advice of a friend. Ron worked a few places before buying his shop. He worked for a while in Beverly Hills even. He always mentioned that gig as if he was going to impress anyone in Ocean Beach with that. But in 1975, he decided to have his own shop in Ocean Beach, and it worked out well for him — and for OB. Ron has been around long enough to have cut a small boy’s hair and, later, the hair of that small boy’s own son. I don’t speak for all men, but I think I speak for some when I say that changing barbers is a traumatic event for us. When we find a barber we like, we stick with them. I’ve been in San Diego since 1977 and have only had two barbers. My first was in La Jolla, and I drove up there regularly from Ocean Beach for years until Tony retired. The next year or so, I was lost in the wilderness, ricocheting from one unsatisfying experience to another until one day my buddy said, “You should go see Ron.” I was a little doubtful because my buddy was mostly bald, but it was my salvation.
My mother once told me you have to learn to laugh at yourself if you want to enjoy life. I learned to do that, and I tend to gravitate toward people like that because I enjoy the back-and-forth banter. Ron is one of those people and he gave as good as he got. That is what I will miss about Ron, the good-natured, animated guy waving his scissors around, getting excited over something one minute, then quiet and pensive about something else the next. I was comfortable sitting in that chair, and so were a lot of other guys, because of the person Ron is. So, it is similar to what I said before. I’m not — we’re not — losing just a great barber. We are all losing a friend. I asked Ron what he might want to say in parting, and his response was simple and to the point. He said he was going to miss Ocean Beach. But most of all, he was going to miss his clients, because he considered them all his friends. Well, I think I can speak for most of them when I say that we are going to miss Ron as much, or more, as he misses us. If he had a jersey, we’d retire his number forever. The second happy ending to this story is that the shop remains, cleverly renamed Sunset Clipps. The new owner is Jason Bullard, an Ocean Beach resident of 25 years. Jason is very enthusiastic about finally owning his own shop right here in Ocean Beach, and he’s brimming with ideas. It will still be a place to get a regular haircut, but it will be different, offering more services and with a younger clientele, and more barbers. Hopefully, Jason will have a great 39 years like Ron.