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My Profile
Because I can't bear to eulogize Doug - 2008-08-19
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1:02 p.m. - 2003-07-25
Okay, so Mike's got this hat. Actually he has a ton of hats. In his line of work he’s gotten several dozen gimme caps ie: freebie baseball caps given away by the manufacturers and supply houses Mike does business with. We've passed along Weil-McLain (furnace makers) hats to every member of our extended family, donated a boxful of them to the homeless shelter and still have a stack of those puppies piled up on Mike's tool bench. Mickey’s multiplying brooms were a piffle compared to the deluge of advertising head lids we are inundated with every year. Gimme caps aside, Mike has a number of other hats. My favorite is a low crowned Gambler's hat which makes him look a million times sexier than Clint Eastwood. But MIKE'S favorite hat is the dopiest thing ever designed by the millenary world and makes him look like Gilligan on crack. It’s technically a Marine issue sniper’s hat, a floppy brimmed olive drab thing with a sectioned hat band designed to stick tree branches in so one can sneak up on one’s target disguised as a hydrangea bush toting an M-16. I really, really hate this hat. Mike adores his hat. He says it holds his hair back really well and it’s totally comfortable. I tell him comfort isn’t everything and point out my housecoat with the rip under the arm is really comfortable too, but I don’t go off to the Shoprite in it. But there’s no talking to Mike about his goofball hat. I mean I bust on him about it all the time, it’s humiliating to be seen with him while he’s wearing it, but he just grins and shrugs. Of course he wore it to the fair yesterday. I got my revenge though. I couldn’t find my good sun hat and my grungy one is at the new house. (I wear the grungy one while gardening.) I decided to get a new hat at the fair, many of the vendors sell them. I could have worn one of thousands of gimme caps we have, but I wanted something to shade the back of my neck as well as my forehead. Besides I look dyke-y enough already, I don’t need to add a ‘Crowley Hydraulics’ baseball cap to my ensemble, might as well put my wallet on a chain, roll a pack of Luckies in my sleeve and be done with it. My head is as oversized as the rest of me and I’m a tough fit. I shopped for a good long while until I found a hat which met all my requirements: good fit, adequate shade, and inexpensive. One vendor came through and for $2.00 I bought myself a hat that looks EXACTLY like a wicker lampshade. No lie. A tulip shaped octagonal sectioned bamboo beauty with faux velvet trim and a chin strap. I bought it while the guys were on a ride and met them at the exit wearing my new lampshade and a shit eating grin. Mike was appalled. He tried to play it cool and even tossed off a quip about how New Year’s Eve was long over, but I could see my new light fixture chapeau got under his skin. Heh. Revenge is a bitch and that bitch is me. (How our children put up with us I don’t know. Mike and I were torturing each other, but it’s the kids who suffered. Imagine having to walk around with a father wearing an O.D. green Gilligan hat and a mother with a lampshade on her head. No wonder Alex can’t wait to leave for college.) Aside from the hat war, the fair was great. I went without my stick. I was having a good walking day. Plus the carnival people have gotten smart and set up benches near the rides, especially the kiddie rides, and we parents can park our butts while the kids frolic (and use many, many, many pricey ride tickets). My one long term grievance with the fairgrounds was a stunning lack of places to sit. I guess their thinking was, “Keep ‘em moving and they’ll keep spending.” The one big surprise for me was a sorry lack of entries in the needlework categories in the Craft and Agriculture judging. I figured the snowy endless winter we had this year would have meant an excess of crocheted and hand knit beauties, but I guess folks were too depressed by 5 months of ice and gloom to bother. After all, making pretties in the dead of winter is a hopeful occupation and by the ninth or tenth blizzard everyone was in a state of zombie-like inactivity. However the horticulture entries were fantastic and I left them rather downhearted by my own pathetic inadequacy as a gardener. I AM making progress, but I know deep down that I’ll NEVER be able to grow prize winning dahlias. Every year the fair showcases a new fantastic thrill ride and this year’s is a wicked cool roller coaster. A take-off on the traditional Wild Mouse, the cars are circular and seat four. After zooming through several dips and curlicues the cars unlock and spin on their axles around the rest of the track. Whipping around 4G curves in a wildly spinning car looked so cool! I HAD to try it and paid for my foolish want. Wolf just made the height cut-off and we crammed him in with us over his nervous protests. To comfort him I had my arm jammed through the safety bar so I could hold his hand. Jerking and lurching through the curves, my arm got completely battered. I have purple bruises up and down its length and my bicep is still cramping. My head was also spinning as wildly as the coaster car and I stumbled off the thing nursing my crushed arm and trying not to barf. Wolf enjoyed the hell out if though and immediately begged for another turn. I didn’t try that thing again, but went on a few more sedate rides including the giant ferris wheel. The sky was clouding up right then and a few spats of rain came down. Mike went with us, but muttered the whole time about the utter lunacy of being on the tallest lightning rod at the fairgrounds during a thunderstorm. I just grinned at him from under my lampshade and told him to relax and live a little. Gosh I love the fair. ~LA Today’s Pick: “Spinning Wheel” by Blood, Sweat and Tears Artist name supplied by Debsiobhan who was kind enough to save me from my own stupidity.
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