“What happened to your eyebrows?” my girlfriend, Ana, asked me the other day.
“My eyebrows?” I asked.
“Yes, your eyebrows—half of them are missing.”
Like most guys, I don’t spend a lot of time looking at myself in a mirror, so this was news to me. I went into the bathroom and darn if she wasn’t right. The outside edges of both my eyebrows were gone.
Must have been that haircut I got two weeks earlier in that village in Turkey.
Susan McNally, the producer of my public television series, “Rudy Maxa’s World,” had heard a Turkish haircut was a special event involving lots of warm lather, a straight razor, and some kind of hocus pocus involving a flaming cotton-tipped swab. She wanted to film me getting a genuine Turkish haircut. Quite frankly, she enjoys subjecting me to anything that might give her a laugh. No need to go into detail right now about the live leeches she bought me in the Spice Market in Istanbul that I tried to attach to my arm.
Anyway, in a small village along Turkey’s southern coast on the island of Kekova, I found myself sitting in a one-chair barber shop. I ordered The Works.
My barber, Yolan, went to work, meticulously shaving me, cutting what little hair I have by hand with scissors. (“You want small?” he asked, which I took to mean “short.” I nodded affirmatively.)
Then came the flaming part, the part Susan—and our cameraman--clearly had been waiting for. Yolan dipped a long stick with a cotton swab into some kind of purple liquid I figured was alcohol, then lit it, and deftly ran the flames along my cheeks, into my ears and—apparently—near my eyebrows. I think I was so shocked at the blast of heat in my ears, I didn’t notice my eyebrows being singed.
This is not to say I was in any pain—Yolan worked with the finesse of an artist and the sure hand of a surgeon. And if there were any remaining little hairs in my ears or on my cheeks, they had to be made of asbestos.
I tell all my male readers this story as a cautionary tale. Apparently short eyebrows are the fashion among men in Turkey. If that’s not your style, it would be a good idea to mention that before you get a haircut in Turkey.
SHORT TAKES FROM THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF COMMERCIAL AVIATION
--Breaking Up: American Airlines and Turkish Airlines are separating after years of togetherness that permitted members of American’s frequent flyer program to earn miles when flying Turkish Airlines. After Mar. 28, 2008, travel aboard Turkey’s national airline will no longer be eligible for American miles. If you’ve wanted to cash in American miles for a Turkish Airline flight, you may do so until Mar. 29, 2008. You can book a ticket for as far out as Mar. 28, 2009.
--Chew On This: Each of the two decks on Singapore Airlines’ Airbus 380 (that just began service between Singapore and Sydney) stretches longer than the original flight by the Wright Brothers. The world’s second A380 is expected to being flying early next year. That’ll be a non-stop Singapore Airlines flight linking Singapore with London.
--Midwest Meet Mid-France: Northwest announces non-stop service between Minneapolis-St. Paul airport and Paris beginning Apr. 8, 2008. Fares begin at about $810 round trip, and if you pre-register at Northwest’s web site [www.nwa.com], you’ll earn some bonus miles if you buy your ticket before Nov. 6, 2007.
--From the Dept. of Uh-Oh: Big news at Delta Air Lines. Most airlines allow members of their frequent flyer programs to cash in miles for a seat on any flight if they’re willing to use twice the number of miles normally required for a free ticket. In other words, while there’s usually a limited number of seats on any plane available for a “free” ticket (usually requiring 25,000 miles on a domestic flight), you could still snare an award seat if you were willing to relinquish 50,000 miles. Now Delta has decided there will be some flights for which no amount of frequent flyer miles will get you a seat. Writing for USA Today, my buddy Joe Brancatelli calls this “the end of frequent flyer programs.” He argues that airlines have broken their compact with their customers, namely that if you surrender enough miles, you can get an award seat on any flight. He predicts other airlines will follow Delta’s lead. And while Delta says only about five per cent of its flights will be restricted (flights to Nice, for example, during the film festival at Cannes, when the airline knows it can easily sell out every seat), Brancatelli predicts that number will eventually grow to 10, 15 or 20 per cent of flights.

