"GLADSTONE — With keen interest, I’ve been following news reports on global warming. Experts say that average temperatures could rise as much as two full degrees by the time I reach my 90s.
Frankly, I can hardly wait.
As someone with a deep need to be toasty, I yank on layers of outerwear these days just to carry out the trash. That, I can live with. Hats are quite a different matter.
My big beef is that they cause “helmet head,” a condition wherein your “do” is destroyed till the next shampoo. According to superstition, placing your hat on a bed leads to bad luck. Well, better that than bad hair.
Hats also cause serious vision impairment. By flattening my bangs, they force them halfway down my peepers. It’s like peering through carpet fringe unless I sweep them to the sides like a pair of drapes.
So I’m glad hats have declined in popularity. But they were all the rage in 1900, when ladies wore a variety of bonnets for different activities. They changed them at the drop of — well, you know.
At one time, feathered hats enjoyed the same status that Rolex watches do today. Imagine the fun hatmakers had coming up with ludicrous styles. Believe it or not, some even perched real, stuffed birds up there on occasion. The result, no doubt, of too much Milliner Time. (“Hey, let’s try a woodpecker next!”)
Today’s hats are more politically correct, and most women look attractive in them. Chic, even. Their bonnets make a fashion statement. If mine could talk, they’d say, “Good grief.”
No matter how classy they look on a hook, the image they lend me could best be described as Minnie Pearl.
That is, if they even fit. For a short person, I possess an enormous noggin. If I were a cowboy, I’d need a TWENTY-gallon hat. With an extra quart for good measure.
Like magicians, I could pull a rabbit from my hat. A Volkswagen.
Besides, I’m just not a “hat” person. Even as a child, I hated wearing something on my head. Especially that dunce cap.
Luckily, none of my numerous jobs required headgear. And though I’ve been assaulted by falling Tupperware more than once, I refuse to wear a hardhat in the kitchen.
So if I make it to my 90s, I plan to celebrate the bennies of global warming.
I’ll be the one with helmet head."
Tags:
Bookmarks:
0 comments:
Post a Comment