I’ve got three sons --- three grown-up, man-sized sons. In May, two of them turned 21 and the other turned 23. We all got together for three days up in NorCal for a group birthday celebration. For those of you who are not-so-hip, or in the dark, “NorCal” is what we cool people call Northern California. Confession – I’m not that cool myself. My son, who lives up there, recently edumacated me in this very fine piece of information.
We ran around San Francisco and Berkeley for a day and enjoyed the sights, the shops, the scenery, the food, and . . . the people-watching was fantastic. We stumbled into a hat store in Berkeley, where my son saw your basic, cheap, nothing-fancy pirate hat. He just had to have it. It was like one we used to carry in our costume store in Santa Barbara. He was bummed when we replaced with a bigger, better version, so there was no way he was going to pass this one up. He knocked over a student, an old woman, and a blind man in his mad rush to get to the cash register. Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite that bad, but you get the feeling of how excited he was.
“No bag, thanks. I’ll wear it out.” And he did wear it . . . for the rest of the day . . . everywhere we went. My son already dresses rather interestingly – he calls it dressing cool and original. His little black pirate hat went so well with his lime green shirt with large white polka dots generously scattered about, along with his blue striped jacket with buttons (think of the “flair” Jennifer Aniston was wearing in Office Space), his snug-fitting jeans, and his bright green converse tennis shoes. The only thing truly pirate about him was the hat, yet all the comments he got were piratey.
An “arrgggh” here, a “where’s yer boat” there, with a few “aye, matey’s” thrown in. We heard every pirate phrase and joke imaginable that day. He got all sorts of compliments and those who stayed silent, gave him a smile or the look. You know the look that makes it clear someone has noticed your odd look, that look that is envious but hiding it, that look that admires you for being brave enough to be different and have fun.
Yes, I know, I’ve raised me some fine young men. First of all they get how to have fun!! This is key. And maybe equally important, they love pirates. I think it’s genetic. I’m a big ol’ pirate inside . . . and even outside at times. I’ve been spotted do my rounds in full pirate garb. And the reactions of those on the street or in the stores are just wonderful.
A hat is all it takes sometimes. It’s something so simple, but it somehow it is so powerful. Just a goofy, fun hat and the whole day takes on a whole new feel. BANG! I’m smiling more. BAM! Others are smiling more. BOOM! Perfect strangers are making conversation! BOING! I’m having more fun, just like that. All because of a hat.
We ran around San Francisco and Berkeley for a day and enjoyed the sights, the shops, the scenery, the food, and . . . the people-watching was fantastic. We stumbled into a hat store in Berkeley, where my son saw your basic, cheap, nothing-fancy pirate hat. He just had to have it. It was like one we used to carry in our costume store in Santa Barbara. He was bummed when we replaced with a bigger, better version, so there was no way he was going to pass this one up. He knocked over a student, an old woman, and a blind man in his mad rush to get to the cash register. Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite that bad, but you get the feeling of how excited he was.
“No bag, thanks. I’ll wear it out.” And he did wear it . . . for the rest of the day . . . everywhere we went. My son already dresses rather interestingly – he calls it dressing cool and original. His little black pirate hat went so well with his lime green shirt with large white polka dots generously scattered about, along with his blue striped jacket with buttons (think of the “flair” Jennifer Aniston was wearing in Office Space), his snug-fitting jeans, and his bright green converse tennis shoes. The only thing truly pirate about him was the hat, yet all the comments he got were piratey.
An “arrgggh” here, a “where’s yer boat” there, with a few “aye, matey’s” thrown in. We heard every pirate phrase and joke imaginable that day. He got all sorts of compliments and those who stayed silent, gave him a smile or the look. You know the look that makes it clear someone has noticed your odd look, that look that is envious but hiding it, that look that admires you for being brave enough to be different and have fun.
Yes, I know, I’ve raised me some fine young men. First of all they get how to have fun!! This is key. And maybe equally important, they love pirates. I think it’s genetic. I’m a big ol’ pirate inside . . . and even outside at times. I’ve been spotted do my rounds in full pirate garb. And the reactions of those on the street or in the stores are just wonderful.
A hat is all it takes sometimes. It’s something so simple, but it somehow it is so powerful. Just a goofy, fun hat and the whole day takes on a whole new feel. BANG! I’m smiling more. BAM! Others are smiling more. BOOM! Perfect strangers are making conversation! BOING! I’m having more fun, just like that. All because of a hat.
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