A Man of Many Hats

Men don’t doff their hats much anymore. To doff your hat means to remove it as a sign of respect or as part of a greeting. My friend Wade and I will go through the motion (with or without a hat) when we see each other – but I don’t see it anywhere else with any frequency. Maybe it’s because respect and formal greetings have fallen out of favor. Perhaps it’s the type of hats men are wearing. Other than a baseball player acknowledging the crowd, when is the last time you have seen a man remove his baseball hat as part of a greeting?

I like baseball hats: I own about a dozen or so. I will wear my Union Pacific one around the house (unless a hockey game is on – then it’s the Wild hat), but I won’t wear a baseball hat in the office. I just have never thought baseball hats looked good with a sport coat or in a business setting. Obviously, Steven Spielberg and Ron Howard don’t agree with me.

When I go outside I am trying to wear a hat more during the day (as opposed to a nightcap). In the cold weather (January or May) it keeps me warm, and during the other times of the year, it protects me from the sun. I prefer a hat instead of sunblock, because I don’t want to slather the top of my head with lotion (my hair is beginning to thin).

I have tried covering my head with a fedora, but I end up looking like I’m trying to be Indiana Jones, Spencer Tracy or Humphrey Bogart.  I like the look – but I guess it’s just not me.

I have a few straw hats that do the job of keeping the sun off my head and the rain off my glasses – but I’m still not sure it’s me, even still I keep a couple in the truck to protect me from the elements.  I have a supply of straw hats at home as well; one is reserved for the pool because it is unsuitable for anywhere else, as it has no shape or style remaining about it. More than one hat has flipped off my head and landed in the path of the trailing brush mower.

One hat survived several years of mowing, but I threw it in the brush pile last week. It had become so discolored from my sweat, plus it was sporting several holes from low hanging branches that it was no longer dong its job.

The one I replaced it with would make Sister Bertrille, The Flying Nun, jealous. It is so wide that if I tilt my head just right I risk becoming airborne.

Among my other hats is a black cowboy hat when I have grown weary of being one of the good guys, a beat-up, wide-brimmed leather one that sheds rain better than any umbrella and a floppy beige one for when I want to look like a tourist while traveling.

I have a few caps that are known by several names such as newsboy and Gatsby caps. They aren’t as wide as a straw hat or fedora, but they are more versatile. You can look rather jaunty in them like John Lennon or tough like Samuel L Jackson if you turn the cap around.

Although it’s true I have many hats, I will never be known as “someone who wears many hats,” for I believe that refers to a person with a wide range of talents and responsibilities.  To those individuals, I tip my hat.