I was sitting in the barber's chair the other day and I thought to myself "I should probably blog this". It was one of those weird times. Not because of what I was doing, but the context in which I was doing it. I can't even say it was the weirdest or most bloggable thing I've done in the inexcusably long time since I last blogged something. But the blog crossed my mind. And so, I'm doing it. Perhaps I'll get around to the enormous list of other weirdness that surrounds an Englishman in Turkey. But for the moment I'll just tell you about sitting in a barber's chair, holding an iPad, pointing at the screen and saying "can you cut it like his?".
"Let me see it again" asked the barber after a few minutes.
"Sure" I said and showed him the following picture:
I don't know why it struck me as something to blog. The thought of me trying to explain who Billy Bragg was perhaps. The fact we shared the same name. That a Turkish barber should be studying and trying to emulate the cut of Billy Bragg's hair.
Perhaps it was just the converging of these two very different but very real worlds. For me Billy Bragg is the epitome of everything I hold dear about England and the barber, his Turkish counterpart.
There is a deeper connection, and it was perhaps this that struck somewhere under the gown. When writing this blog about my observations of the Turkish culture and the inevitable comparisons I would draw from my British up-bringing, there has always been an underlying truth. As much as I love my home and as much as I may seem to criticise this brave new world, Billy Bragg said it best... "I'm not looking for a new England".