He Paid Their Dos, Now They Turn Out to Lend a Hand

Amador Corona cuts the the flattops, pompadours, mohawks, fades and other dos recognized as stylistic hallmarks of the Orange County music scene.

At 67, Corona, a barber here since 1959, is considered the oldest hipster in a youth-oriented subculture that thrives on updated punk, ska, reggae and rockabilly.

He’s known for helping broke musicians, giving longtime customers haircuts for free or on credit. Full price at his Amador’s Barber Shop on 18th Street is only $10.

Now that Corona is unable to keep up with his medical bills from cancer therapy, the rockers are giving him something back.

Several bands with names such as Unit F, El Centro, rockstar barbecue, Leopard Skin Thugs and No Solution played a benefit Sunday for Corona at Club Mesa.

“I am doing this show because I grew up in the area, lived in this area all my life, and Amador’s been a fixture for more than 25 years,” said Tommy Cuomo, 27, of Newport Beach, singer for rockstar barbecue.

“He’s a friend of the scene,” said Mel “Torment” Schantz of Irvine, a member of Unit F and co-promoter of the show. “Amador’s really one of the merchants who’s helped a lot of the bands and artists.”

All of the musicians played for free and Club Mesa donated its stage to help Corona turn the phone back on at Amador’s Barber Shop, which opened in 1970, and make back mortgage payments on the Santa Ana house he bought in 1961.

“The bottom line is he needs some help and we’re going to get it for him,” said co-promoter Steve Cabler, 32, a singer from Newport Beach-based El Centro. “Somebody’s got to step up.”

Step up they did. The largely tattooed crowd, clad in retro working-class duds--polyester work shirts, saggy shorts and retro-sneakers--partied it up for a $5 cover charge.

“I think it’s fabulous,” Corona said. “When I heard about it, I couldn’t believe it.”

Estimates on attendance and money raised were not available Sunday evening.

Cabler, who has been visiting Amador’s since age 5, said Corona has always been there for him.

“When he was a kid he needed a haircut and didn’t have any money, so I gave him a haircut--and he never forgot it,” Corona recalled.

Corona’s clips, musicians say, were a trademark of cool in the punk rock movement of the ‘70s and ‘80s and still maintain street credibility.

“If you didn’t get your haircut from him, you were a nobody,” Cabler said.

On Sunday, Corona and his wife, Ethel, 49, watched the show and hung out with friends and family--daughter Carmen is Unit F’s manager--discussing clothing, music and his cancer.

Corona’s condition was diagnosed as lymphoma in 1994, and, after chemotherapy, it went into remission about two years ago.

“He went from riches to rags,” Ethel said.

He looked well Sunday, with thick, slicked-back hair, a checked shirt and a goatee.

Corona was born in Stanton in 1930 and went to Anaheim Union High School but did not graduate. He worked as an orange picker, construction worker and carpenter before becoming a barber in 1959.

When he started, the close-to-the-scalp hairstyles were considered clean-cut--or what today’s youth call “straight edge.”

“The flattops, the buzz jobs, it was always a nice college kid [who said]: ‘Just take it off,’ ” Corona said. “Now you have hair like that and they consider you a bad boy.”

Though some of the musicians who played Sunday looked like rebels, their charity came through from beneath the tattoos and street wear.

“We thought it was cool because he’s from the community, he’s local, and we thought, ‘Why not?’ ” said Erick McDougall, 25, of San Clemente, the bass player for rockstar barbecue. “It’s about anyone with a disease like that.”