I like hats. I like them a lot. I like all kinds of hats. I even have quite a few. In fact, the one pictured is my NASCAR hat I sometimes wear for my guy who drives the pea-shit green car, No. 18. I have a shitload of other ball caps that I wear (one at a time, of course) when I walk in the morning, and the reason for that is mainly to cover my yet-uncombed hair. It may be great farookin’ hair, but in the morning, it can be quite cavemanish. I also have a couple woolen sock caps that I wear (again, one at a time) when walking in the seriously freezing weather and when
shoveling snowblowing. Function, not fashion, folks.
The thing is, other than the occasions noted above, I don’t wear hats very often, and there are a few reasons for that.
The first and perhaps most obvious reason is that I don’t wear hats is that I hate like hell to cover my head thereby preventing the world from beholding my great farookin’ hair. The second reason is that, once I put a hat on my head, I have to leave it there for the duration, because it invariably causes “hat-head,” an affliction common to those of us with lots of hair. The third and most important reason why I don’t wear hats very often is that I look like a bit of a douche bag when I wear a hat.
For example, I would LOVE to wear a cowboy hat, but as I’ve noted elsewhere, when I put one on, I look like a Jewish dentist named “Mel” trying to look like a cowboy. This is a strange phenomenon, given that I’m not Jewish, I’m not a dentist, and my name’s not “Mel”. Go figure.
I just don’t wear hats well.
There are some people who can put any damned thing on their heads and look great. My friend and bodyguard, Ken, looks great in any hat he wears, from a ball cap, to an Indiana Jones hat, to one of those cab driver caps, and even a Panama Jack straw number.
Same thing with Elisson. He’s the cat’s ass in his trademark white fedora, and I’ve seen him a sport couple other lids, and he wears the shit out of all of them. I met Elisson for the first time in Austin last year. I was in the hotel bar (naturally) and in the distance down the long hallway that led into the bar, I could see the white fedora bouncing up and down, and I knew just who it was under that lid. The man can sure wear a hat.
Then there is V-Man. I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures of him wearing the now infamous RED hat with the purple feather in it. Poifect! I’ve also seen a photo of him on someone’s blog (I think Elisson’s) wearing a farookin’ doo-rag (In New Orleans, I believe) and the sumbitch looked good in that too. He’s definitely another hat guy.
I can’t leave out RedNeck, who just wouldn’t be RedNeck without a baseball cap, usually one that has something to do with Budweiser. Another hat guy.
Some folks are hat peeps, and some are not, I suppose. We all play the hand we’re dealt.
Well, I’ll leave you with that clutch of pointless observations as I head off to Da Post (hatless, of course) to tip a few with the Usual Suspects.
Play nice today.