Phil Kirschbaum

It was my first job interview after college.  My mom and dad wanted me to be prepared. They were afraid that after four years of living as a hippie and protesting the war in Vietnam, nothing had prepared me for a job interview. So here was their three-step plan:

Step #1. Haircut.  That, my mom entrusted to her hair stylist Maestro Gerhardt. The Maestro’s first words to me were “You vill get ze shag cut.”

Step #2. Suit. That my dad entrusted to Johnny Amodei at Denis Menswear in Skokie.

Step #3. Their graduation gift: A gold necklace with my “Zodiac Sign” - a nod to my hippie lifestyle and the Broadway play Hair. A compromise from Irv and Flo.

Armed with my shag haircut, my suit, and my necklace, I ventured downtown to begin this new chapter of my life.  Walking along Michigan Avenue to my interview in Chicago’s South Loop, I  stopped to look at my reflection in a store window. I was stunned by what I saw.  I didn't recognize this person.   It seemed like I had abandoned everything that was important to me.

Just beyond the image of myself in the window, I saw a group of high school kids pointing at me.  I could see and hear them laughing at me.  One of the kids said, “Check out this dude.”  That was followed by a round of uproarious laughter from his friends.

I wanted to die. I wanted to turn around and yell to the kids: “This isn’t me!”

I did, however, get the job.

I haven't worn the necklace in over 40 years.   I keep it in a box of treasured, sacred objects from my life.  Maybe it’s still bringing me good luck.