Dumb-ass hats
So, when my Dad was my age (early 40’s), and I was a teenager, he’d embarrass the heck out of me by wearing a pith helmet while mowing the front lawn. Yes. A pith helmet. He had it left over from when he was in the Air Force. Not that they issued it to him. He just had it from back then.
He’d fire up our nasty, smoky old lawn mower and grudgingly hit the green. I inherited my loathing for yard work from my Dad. Not gardening; gardening is a lovely pass time. But the care, feeding, watering, cutting, raking, etc. of a patch of crappy, homogeneous weeds is truly noxious to me. If it was culturally OK to have a sand/rock garden in one’s front lawn in Ohio, I’d do it.
Out Dad goes! Wearing the pith helmet; a short-sleeved, white, button-down shirt; plaid Bermuda shorts; dark socks; and sandals. You can imagine that I was somewhat… chagrined.
Until I got to be about…well, my age now. A few years back, I took to wearing a Tilly hat (see pic) because we found one that fit my great, huge noggin’. It keeps off the rain, the snow, and the sun. It floats. It has a secret inside pocket. It has a drawstring inside that can be worn three different ways. It is an awesome hat.
And, last summer, I went out wearing that hat, and a pair of cut-off sweats, and dark socks with sandals (cause the sandals chafe, but I didn’t have [couldn't find] any clean white socks, and I had a window-of-opportunity of 30 minutes to mow before the rain was going to hit) and began to mow.
And then realized I’d become my dad. Cursing while mowing the lawn, wearing a dumb-ass hat. And it occurred to me why men of a certain age and type — men like my dad, and now me — wear dumb-ass hats: because we like them, and don’t give a crap what other people think anymore.
God bless the moon, god bless me, and god bless my dad. Who taught me, silently (except for the cursing) to be myself.
[Note: I'm posting this in the winter because I feel like it, dammit!]
January 7th, 2008 at 2:37 am
When I was a child we had this original tropical pith helmet that came down to us from my grandfather. Of course we only used it for costume parties and such, but I always envied the people who could actually wear them way back before they became ridiculous: it was just so incredibly pleasant to wear. It provided excellent sun protection while being light as a feather (cork is), superbly ventilated, and with this well designed inner band that you barely felt on your head. I have yet to see anything like it in headgear.
Admittedly, though I have the age, I may not be the type… I’d be too embarrassed to appear in one on the street today
January 7th, 2008 at 1:28 pm
Hurrah for dumb-ass hats!
I think my neighbors down the street have found a rather elegant solution to the mowing issue. They have a huge oak tree in their front yard. They have boxwood hedges at the edge of the yard, which keeps the actual ground-level of the yard rather invisible, unless you’re right up on the curb. They do not rake. They do not have a lawn, they have a small forest clearing filled with leaves. It is awesome; I’m sure it’s a profoundly ecologically friendly practice and the squirrels have got to love it.
Ooh, and another cool no-lawn solution: ivy. Nothing but a mass of English ivy, with maybe a few extra plants thrown in for texture.
Ok, so your point was probably not to solicit unconventional landscaping advice from Jen.
I love that you love your Tilly hat. I think it’s rather dashing, myself. There’s a gentleman in one of my meetups who wears one, occasionally, and when I see it, I think of you.
January 9th, 2008 at 7:27 pm
My two brothers and I have been playing an ongoing game we call “EDB.” EDB stands for “Exhibiting Dad Behavior.” We invoke it any time one of us puts on a panama hat, twiddles one’s thumbs while driving, or turns the volume down on a radio because we can’t figure out how to turn it off. The rules are unclear, the scoring is vague, and it’s been going on for years but based on my limited understanding of the game we invented, you just scored about 50 points.
Good on you!
January 15th, 2008 at 1:47 pm
Philip: Yes! EDB, indeed. Sometimes even the tone of voice can do it, eh? My son will ask me something and I’ll lean back, kinda frown in thought, and directly channel for my father.
I’ve also found myself singing all his dumb songs while doing the dishes (Glorious Mud, Hi-away Home, etc.)
I don’t think it’s a bad thing, since I like my dad.
If I start using Greek and Latin medical terms (he’s a doc; I am not) in daily speech, then I’ll be reaaally worried.
May 9th, 2010 at 1:14 am
To tell people to “shop around” is probably the worst advice you could give as it doesn’t matter how good of a driver you are you (the good driver) are going to pay for all of the bad drivers out there (there are millions of them). I do not believe in no fault insurance, as someone is ALWAYS a fault. This along with socialized medicine is an absolute farce and is failing across the board.