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There’s a point, after nuturing a straw hat for a year or two, or more, it reaches a state of being worn in. Perversely enough that point usually coincides with the point one’s most beloved on the planet becomes so contrary as to see it as being worn out. She can’t understand how the divinely selected hat on the divinely selected head has spent months being moulded carefully to take consideration of all the lumps and bumps that come with living within a skull that God designed as a brain helmet.
Okay, my imitation Panama straw hat made in China was never the best on the street, but it was given to me by writer who was once been nominated for a Pulitzer prize. Not that his hat looked like it, he hadn’t done even half the work needed for the job. I had to use my very own head to mould it into to something more literaturish to deserve the honour of someone once nominated for a Pultizer Prize. It needed to look worn out, and I can wear anything, or anybody, out. Only then can it be put it on ebay to get a price worthy of such a history. It belonged to Don Meredith. Not the quarterback, or the other Don Meredith, but the other one, who actually didn’t get the prize. Hey, that’s something to boast about; not winning a prize. I didn’t get a Pulitzer either. Perhaps I should use that, Don does.
Anyway, when all’s said and done, what can make a bloke look more like a proper bloke than a straw hat that looks as though it’s been in the boxing ring with the great reaper and won.
Copyright © 2014 Bryan Hemming
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I wear a hat most of the summer. Why don’t the Spanish ladies wear them, I have often wondered? They look curiously at me and I know I look like a tourist but I have to stop my hair from turning to straw….
And very becoming it looked too, from the photo you posted of yourself sketching while wearing it.
What is it about men and their danged hats, anyway? ;-}
It’s just one of those important men’s things women can’t understand. You know, like playing with train sets in the attic when you reach middle age. And holey socks. There, I told you you wouldn’t understand.
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My husband used to get really cool baseball hats embroidered with his business name on them. “Laughing Dog Productions.” He’d of course have to buy them in bulk, but darned if he wouldn’t keep wearing the same grubby hat with sweat stains and dust on the bill. What kinda advertising is that? You’re so right. I just don’t get it. ;-}
can understand your attachment but we women view things through different eyes – your beloved would just would like to see something more fitting for the brain beneath the helmet – as long as its not a somebrero cut with two holes for ears that she offers, take it as a compliment
But it took me years to get it fitting properly.
now’s your chance to start all over again 😉