Brad Ross

Jun 30, 2023

Fri., June 30, 2023timer4 min. read Sometimes, when least expected, life can hand you a flip of fate. Or a buzz cut. Brad Ross thought he had it figured out when he retired last year from his high-pressure job as chief of communications for the City of Toronto. Nearing four decades into a career in media relations — go-to guy with the TTC for pestering reporters before settling into city hall — and approaching age 60, he had a second chapter plan plotted. Why, he’d swap his endlessly ringing cellphone for a set of barber’s clippers. A rather quirky professional switcheroo but barbering had always been a niggling idea in the back of his mind. Slower-paced, convivial for someone who enjoys making conversation, and far removed from the crisis management to which he’d become accustomed up at the hall. A cool alternative to fading away in retirement. “I didn’t want to sit around and clip coupons.” It was Canada Day weekend, precisely a year ago, when Ross, 58, was still at his civil servant job, that he began to seriously consider a what-next scenario. “I was getting phone messages and texts and emails on the long weekend, which was par for the course with the job I’d been doing in one capacity or another for almost 40 years. I was starting to run out of gas. I thought, before I run out of gas it was best to pull over and do something else. I’d like to be able to just breathe a little bit.” Aha, barbering. Kooky as that may have seemed, though he’d always had an interest in the métier. “I’d never touched a head of hair other than my own.” Had never trimmed a beard other than his own. “I thought this would be almost Zen-like. You’re focused on that one task for an hour. Chit-chatting with a client. When you’re finished, they look better than when they came in, they feel better, you feel good. You’re not taking your work home with you. I’m not getting calls about some crisis that a hair product can’t fix. If you screw up, their hair will grow back.” That was the aim when Ross checked out from city hall. After discussing it with his wife Pam, he consulted with his own barber about reorienting himself for a new vocation, was told he could be taken on as an apprentice. “Learning the craft from scratch. I’d never picked up a scissors in my life.” Many of us have a Plan B for when we step off the treadmill of a long-held and demanding career. When retirement, idleness, is unappealing and travelling has lost its lustre. Perhaps a total reinvention. I do, too, way outside the writing orbit, but not divulging anything here. (Hint: Vow of silence.) Ross was teed up to begin his apprenticeship on March 3. In preparation, he decided to get fit, or at least fit enough for spending many hours on his feet. At the end of 2022, he quit smoking, for starters. “I knew I’d need to be in fairly decent shape.’’ Then, on February 27 — the Monday before his Friday start date — Ross suffered a heart attack. “So that was a bit of a setback,” he notes dryly. A close shave with death brings stuff into perspective. Widely liked by everybody in my business, we learned of Ross’s health whammy from his postings on social media, where he shared the story of surviving his “widow maker” myocardial infarction and expressing gratitude to the EMS. “I called 911 at 9:02 a.m. and at 10:26 a.m. I was in my room,” Ross recounts to the Star. “They whisked me right up, bypassed the emergency department. That quick action meant my heart didn’t suffer any permanent damage.” Six weeks later, he reported for work at History Barbershop in Midland. So much for taking it easy. One of Ross’s daughters happens to be a hairdresser, as well. “I would watch what she was doing out of the corner of my eye. But hairdressing is different from barbering. A barber shop is not just cut ’n’ go. They do incredible detail on everything. Hot towel neck shave for every client. Hot towel shaves. There’s expectations of detail and professionalism.” Soon he’ll be attending Georgian College as part of the apprenticeship program. “I’m learning things that barbers don’t do but to get your licence you need to know — colour, perms. I don’t have to do that necessarily but I would like to get my licence. Why not?” Embarking on a new career, he had the financial security of a good civil service pension plan. “I took a bit of a haircut on the income, pun intended. But barbers actually can make fairly decent money.” More important, it’s simply been a fun gig and not at all, in his estimation, a “comedown” from his previous hectic life, with all its attendant responsibilities and a staff of 75. “The consequences of error in doing what I used to do was greater, more stress, all the politics and everything else. I miss the people but I don’t miss the job itself, going on television, explaining the sometimes unexplainable.” By September, Ross expects he’ll be ready to do this job unsupervised, nobody looking over his shoulder. The pace can be hair-raising occasionally but there’s always time for a chinwag with clients, unless they prefer quiet. It’s a nice head space, a convivial atmosphere. Shave and a haircut, two bits. Actually, around 80 bucks is more like it. Rosie DiManno is a Toronto-based columnist covering sports and current affairs for the Star. Follow her on Twitter: @rdimanno SHARE: