Michigan's Best Mullet Only Gets Trimmed Twice a Year
Locals know that Easter is coming when radiator repairman Mel Koykka gets his luscious locks snipped
When the ice breaks in the Straits of Detroit and the tankers begin running toward Lake Superior, you know spring has dawned on Detroit.
But nothing quite signals the arrival of the equinox than the traditional Easter haircut of Mel Koykka.
Twice a year—and only twice a year—do scissors touch the golden drapery of Mel Koykka’s outrageous mullet. Once for Easter and once for Thanksgiving. This makes the cutting a must-see event for someone with nothing better to do. It is Michigan’s equivalent of the swallows returning to Capistrano.
“Easter means rebirth,” explains Koykka, 67. “And Thanksgiving is for giving thanks. So I’m celebrating rebirth and giving thanks.”
Koykka, it would seem, is no poet. But he is among the last of America’s radiator repairmen. Local men flock to his garage. They come not so much for a new thermostat or a radiator recoring, but rather for a can of beer and a cup of human companionship.
There is John the Antenna Man. Sam the Claims Adjuster. Brute the Six-Fingered Mechanic. Sandy the Truck Driver. Matt the Moonshiner. Al the Welder. Like Kokkya, they’re all experts in their field, all semi-retired. Mel's is their unofficial clubhouse.
On any given afternoon, you will see these men through the grimy windows of Ferndale Auto Radiator laughing at the same jokes they laughed at a month ago.
The flames from the gas lamps give the place the vibe of a laboratory and the beer is always cold. Founded more than 100 years ago by Art Koykka—a follically challenged forbearer—the motto here is: “We repaired your grandad’s radiator.”
But today the club has convened to witness the renewal of the Monarch of the Mullet. The Prince of the Pompadour. Business in the front. Party in the back.
The sculpting was performed by Austin the Barber, a man so in-demand that his chair is never empty (house calls by appointment only).
It was obvious that the Koykka job would be no easy task and would take every bit of the barber’s skill and knowledge. It was three haircuts in one. Pompadour on top. High and tight on the sides, and the slightest of straight trim on the backside. The mullet measured a full 1 foot 6 inches from the crown of Koykka’s pompadour to the bottom of his beavertail.
“The mullet is more popular these days than you would think,” the barber casually offered. “A lot of younger guys are coming in and asking me for it.”
It was quickly decided among the audience that the younger set had obviously cast an envious eye on Mel the Mullet, liked what they saw, and decided they simply must have one of their own.
And just like that, the 1980s started calling.
After 15 minutes of scissor and razor work, the Easter rebirth of Mel the Mullet was nearly complete. Nearly, but not quite.
Not until Tilly the dog walked in with her master, Todd the Rumrunner. Koykka, the last of the radiator men, coaxed his four-legged manicurist with three dog biscuits before she would lick his cuticles clean.
