There's Nothing Like That Old "Lid"

I bought a new hat recently.My wife said it was time.The lid I'd been wearing for a couple of years had taken on a personalityof its own. The emblem on the front was illegible, the color hard todescribe, other than earthtone, and it was beginning to smell a bit likethe dogs.But it still fit, shaded my eyes from the sun and provided shelter for mybalding head.What more could I ask?Something a little more fashionable I suppose.Maybe a trucker cap.Favored by rappers, skaters and the heavily inked, trucker caps -- atfirst glance anyway -- look a lot like the baseball caps I've worn foryears. But instead of a curved brim and a snug fit, these roomy lids feature a bill flat enough to play cards on and are usually worn askew. As in "heydude, your hat's on crooked."An admonition that seldom draws a friendly response. It's doubtful, however, that I'll ever wear a trucker cap. Like baseball caps worn backwards, hats that fit too loosely to stay on my head in astiff wind or don't shade my face, make little sense to me.Besides, I'm too old for such a fashion statement.I've always favored utilitarian chapeaus, like my oldred-and-black-checked Scotch cap with ear flaps. Elmer Fudd be damned. It sheltered me through blizzards and made do as a pillow when I forgot tobring one. Or the straw cowboy hat that keeps my ears and neck from frying in thesummer sun. I even have one of those long-billed fishing hats with a Lawrence ofArabia flap across the back that billows out like a cape when I'm runningthe boat at full throttle. But I prefer a simple cap. One that shades my eyes and covers my head.With an emblem appropriate in the company of women and children. Mine says Montana State.Does away with the need to ask: "Bobcats or Grizzlies?" I've worn hats that advertised bars, ropes and the feathers used to tieflies. It makes little difference. In a few months the logo will beillegible, blurred by sweat, grease, mud and blood. The color will fade and the new cap smell will vanish, replaced by an earthier aroma enabling me to find my hat in the dark. Then my wife will tell me it's time. And I'll begin looking for another. Something simple. Snug-fitting with a brim.I ask little of my lids. Parker Heinlein is at pman@mtintouch.net