Counterculture Barber Is a Real Cutup

With Lucy in the Sky, there are no real surprises.

It is entirely predictable that when you bring your kid in for a haircut, Lucy will quote to you from the works of Wavy Gravy--poet, clown, Woodstock emcee, patron saint of aging hippies the world round.

“You know what Wavy says,” says Lucy, reciting slowly for full sing-song effect: ‘If you don’t have a sense of humor, then . . . it . . . just . . . isn’t . . . funny.’ ”

Lucy in the Sky--a.k.a. Lucy Williams--is the only barber in Ventura County who can quote Wavy Gravy, or who knows him personally, having soaked with him for three days recently at a Northern California hot springs.

“We shared an energy,” she explains.

If you know Lucy in the Sky, such statements are as everyday as the candy she offers, the hugs she doles out, the glitter on her sneakers, the bubbles wafting skyward from the machine on her roof, the purple feathers hanging from her ceiling, the thousands of dolls and stuffed animals and blinking lights and whirly things crammed into her shop in downtown Ventura.

For 14 years, Lucy has cut kids’ hair. Kids used to get a kick out of Lucy when she worked on them while decked out as a California Raisin. Now those kids are bringing in their kids, and, if the spirit moves her, Lucy will snip them while decked out as her alter ego, Purpalicious the Clown.

In what seems a misty bygone era, I used to bring my daughter in to see Lucy.

But that was long before Lucy showed her true colors, which, as it turns out, are stripes.

At 44, Lucy is fast on her way to becoming Ventura County’s most zealous advocate for the zebra.

She says they’re magical--like unicorns, only striped, and without the horn. One of the great moments for Lucy in 1999 was marching in Ojai’s Fourth of July parade with Spirit, a zebra that resides in Oak View. Lucy wore stripes.

Upset that local kids must travel all the way to the Los Angeles Zoo to see a zebra, she is urging her clients to campaign for one at the Santa Barbara Zoo. She envisions a peaceful rally at the zoo. Signs would proclaim: “Without a Zebra, You Should Call It an Oo.” Maybe Wavy Gravy would lead a cheer.

“I want to do it for the kids,” she says. “Every kid should see a zebra in person.”

Alan Varcik, the zoo’s general curator, was sympathetic but unmoved when I told him of Lucy’s quest. Zebras need room to roam, he said, and the 30-acre zoo isn’t getting any bigger.

If the zebra doesn’t fly, Lucy has plenty of other things to do.

She has a soft spot for troubled kids. Sometimes, she’ll sit with them in her shop for hours, offering occasional advice--or at least, an understanding ear.

In December, she’s flying to Maui for 40 days of solitude--sleeping in a hammock, tilling the rain-forest soil, and planting flowers--probably impatiens.

“I’m challenging myself to the most primal test I know,” she says. “It’s a rite of passage, for world peace and the health of the planet.”

Then there’s the clowning.

Lucy does clown gigs at birthday parties, companies, schools and charity benefits. She often brings along her dog, Woofie, clipped with a Mohawk empurpled, she’s quick to point out, by “natural vegetable dye.”

Once she entertained in a neighborhood so tough that no other clown would risk it. Lucy borrowed a bulletproof vest from a police officer friend and wore it under her clown outfit.

“Maybe I’m a clown,” she says, “but I’m a clown with attitude.”

Steve Chawkins can be reached at 653-7561 or by e-mail at [email protected].