How about a buzz cut?

 
Just sit still Butch!
Sitting atop several Los Angeles telephone directories and yellow pages placed on the seat of a dining room chair with an old sheet tied around my neck was our at home barber shop.  The barber was my dad and his hand-squeezed hair clippers would be clicking up and down my neck.  Plus my dad had a pair of barber scissors and barber comb.
This was my fate for about 12 or 15 years.  A hair cut whether I wanted it or not.  “No Okie boy is going to be ragged head in this household.”  So my dad cut my hair about every two or three weeks.  Even though he didn’t use a bowl as some had suggested getting a haircut, the homemade haircut certainly looked like a bowl cut anyway.  He trimmed up the neck all around the back and left just enough on top to oil down and part.
Let me back up a bit here.  When I was about five or six years old, I got my dad’s barber scissors and cut off almost all my hair in front and on top.  Because of this noticeable appearance my Uncle Bat started calling me Butch.  This noticeable appearance lasted for about a month.  An almost all bald headed six-year-old trying to make his way through church and school without being noticed.  It wasn’t easy.
However, the nickname “Butch” lasted well into my teen years.  Later, at about age 14 or 15 I was able to accumulate enough money to get a haircut at a real barber.  And at that time I told the barber I wanted a flattop or as some called it a Princeton .  Princeton as in the famed aircraft carrier or flattop boat.  And once again, looking like a bald-headed person with oily combed swept back sides.  The barber told me to maintain the flattop style I needed some Butch wax.  A small glass jar of orangy wax and rub it into my hair each morning before going to school.  So I went from oily to waxy.  It wasn’t easy to be stylish in those days.  You know what I mean Butchy boy!