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Local Life
Angelo DiPinto far from cutting edge Mane man on Chestnut Hill for 50 years by PETE MAZZACCARO One of man's great struggles in this universe is the one with his hair. (This is not to say women don't have trouble, but this is a story about a barber, not a hairstylist. Women and hair is a subject worthy of books.) Many people stumble through life for years looking for a genius in hair sculpture, someone who can with scissors and comb manipulate and caress hair into the perfect shape. Or for the less ambitious, at least make it manageable. When I first came to Philly six years ago, I wasn't sure I could replace my Connecticut barber Roger Michelle (who, oddly, was also my state legislator; I guess he was well qualified because he was an expert at splitting hairs). In my search, I tried everything. I went to trendy hair salons... Psychiatrist, pianist harmonize at Hill art gallery by LAUREN FRITSKY When you walk into the JMS Gallery at 8236 Germantown Ave., you find yourself in an open area with sculptures equally spaced from one another and perfectly positioned paintings on the wall. The large windows let in a lot of sunlight, adding to the warmth the gallery already emits. Then you meet one of the owners, Lisa Chae, and the place becomes even more vibrant. Petite and lovely, Chae has owned JMS with partner John O'Brien since June, 2003. They chose... Civilization as we know it is dead Icon Bob Dylan goes commer-shill; is handling bras by JIMMY J. PACK JR. I wasn't alive during the 1960s but I am sure, in one way or another, that I am the product of the 1960s. If it weren't for Oliver Stone, the only thing I would know about the Œ60s is that a lot of people were dropping acid and listening to Jimi Hendrix and that more assassinations took place in the sixth decade of the 20th century in the United States of America than in any other decade prior and since. There's also one other thing I know about the 1960s, and that is that one of rock music's most... very uneven start at Allens Lane by J. COOPER ROBB Depending on the cast, Jeffrey Hatcher's Three Viewings can be either a superior example of storytelling or an agonizing illustration of bad acting. The current Allens Lane Theater production of Viewings isn't agonizing, but it does (with one shining exception) transform Hatcher's popular trio of tales into a relatively uninspired evening of theater. Set in a funeral parlor in a nondescript Midwestern town where all the characters seem to have walked out of a John Updike short story, the three peripherally related tales aren't nearly as interested... Pro-choice protest: Roe, Roe, Roe your vote by JIMMY J. PACK JR. I'm not in a bar; I'm sitting on an Amtrak train heading back to Philadelphia from Washington, D.C., and despite the fact there's a café car that sells little bottles of Jim Beam and cans of Coke, the line is too long. I have a spring-season flu, and the train is packed with women, and some men, on their way home from a huge march on Washington, which means people are standing in the aisles. Normally you'd have to be slightly loose in the head to buy an unreserved train ticket... |