Frank Sinatra Assesses my Hair

I dream I am waiting for my father outside a barber shop when a storm suddenly hits. The barber loudly announces "Free haircuts for anyone stuck in the storm," so naturally, I come up. The barber is busy, so Frank Sinatra assesses my hair. First, Sinatra pulls the comb out of my pants pocket, then he complains that my comb is too short. As he fiddles with my hair in a business-like way, some angry locals who have a beef with Frank come into the store, as well as some children who want autographs. The barber chases them away so Frank can concentrate on my hair.

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