Hats. This is our first thread about hats.

[Bammer]

I know it’s time for a haircut when my 7 3/8 Seahawks hat is fitting too snugly.

Shoulda gone with 7 1/2 WTF was I thinking.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[epilogue]

I really wish men wore fedoras and the like as a regular thing. Like back in the 50s. You go out, you put on your hat. Not cap, hat.

(I do wear caps btw)

Maybe move to New York

[wease]

I really wish men wore fedoras and the like as a regular thing. Like back in the 50s. You go out, you put on your hat. Not cap, hat.

(I do wear caps btw)

Maybe move to New York

I want to SO badly.

[dad]

i've become more of a hat guy lately.

i even go so far as to wear them backward.

come at me.

[Chris_H_2]

I really wish men wore fedoras and the like as a regular thing. Like back in the 50s. You go out, you put on your hat. Not cap, hat.

(I do wear caps btw)

Maybe move to New York

I want to SO badly.

A fedora with a hoodie looks just as ridiculous in New York as it does in Nashville.

[spike]

I really wish men wore fedoras and the like as a regular thing. Like back in the 50s. You go out, you put on your hat. Not cap, hat.

(I do wear caps btw)

Maybe move to New York

I want to SO badly.

A fedora with a hoodie looks just as ridiculous in New York as it does in Nashville.

[doug rr]

what a bad choice of chair that is...up against a wall...no way to push back or put your feet out..I'm uncomfortable just looking at it..that guy wrote corduroy..sad

[spike]

I’d argue the author of Corduroy would prefer being tightly walled on two sides. Easier to see the fans coming.

[spike]

Two fewer directions to run though. Hmm.

[E.H. Ruddock]

Thin Chair

[E.H. Ruddock]

Wall or None

[E.H. Ruddock]

Brick O' Pussies (improv)

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[spike]

No Mortar

[wease]

I’d argue the author of Corduroy would prefer being tightly walled on two sides. Easier to see the fans coming.

I would think a four walled world would be preferable

[bodysnatcher]

my bro got a comically large sombrero at DisneyWorld as a kid, and ended up wearing it everywhere through junior high. he even played golf tournaments wearing it.

[spike]

[Bammer]

Seat Lew

[spike]

Nothing As It Eames