Page 4 - Scene Magazine 42-02 February 2017
P. 4

As Scene By
Hats. Most of the pictures of me... I’m wearing one. One of the earliest – about one-year-old I’d guess – sky blue and a white bob on top. I love hats.
There was a time you could tell what someone did for a living... either by the hat on their head, or by the hat hanging from a hook at their
front door.
I miss hats. Not the ones we have to
wear to protect ourselves... I still can’t get myself to wear one when I’m riding a bike... But the one’s that define who we are.
I miss seeing a nurse in a hat. I miss seeing a businessman pulling up his collar, and tucking the brim of his hat close to his nose to protect it from the rain. I miss Frank Sinatra pushing up the tip of his hat to flash a smile. I miss Al Kaline waving it gracefully to the grateful crowd at Tiger Stadium. I miss watching my grandfather carefully placing his hat on the high shelf at Bill Knapp’s Restau- rant before we eat.
My father wears a hat nearly every
waking moment of his life. It’s done mostly to save time. If you’ve met him – that coif requires a few extra minutes. And, if you’ve met him – you probably gave a knowing grin.
You should know that I have a ginormous head. Buying a “fitted” hat is next to impossible. Cowboy hats never work. Oh, I’ve wanted them to... but I just look silly. Mostly baseball-type caps for me... adjustable for sure. During my “afro” days, I even had to hold the back of my hats together with tape – because the “adjustable” dots didn’t reach out far enough.
Hats have defined moments in my life. The Los Angeles Rams helmet I bought at K-mart when I was about ten was not worn much... but I was so proud of it. It took a lot of saving. It kinda gave me a sense of “try” in life. My first Detroit Tiger helmet still sits in my home. The bucket hat from my early teen years is gone... I wish I still had it.
The bucket hat was stitched with denim. The tight fit stopped sweat from dripping in my face. And it hid my giant mass of curly hair that simply would not comply with ANY “current” hairstyle. Yep, I miss that hat... the hair, too!
There was a time that I collected hats. All of them adorned with a sports-team logo. They hung proudly on a wall. They currently sit boxed without purpose in the basement.
So, at 55 I’ve come down to my fav- orites. ALL serve a purpose – weathered and aging.
My Sintra-esque hat is only for playing cards. My daughter bought it for me. Everyone playing cards with me will sneak it from my head to give it a fit.
My blue knit hat for winter walks... it has no story... it’s just been the hat I wear when it’s cold for decades.
My white “beach” hat isn’t even mine. It’s too small. It has an un-washable tan tinge inside, and it has protected my Dutch skin for years after too much time in the sun.
And then there were three. All sport the University of Michigan logo. All are frayed. All are too old to remember when I got them. All have been washed a hundred times. One is white, and one is yellow. Ten years ago Carl Angelo told me the “blue” one should be replaced. I still wear it... a lot.
I love hats.
Be a super sleuth... join the ongoing hunt for Rick DeRuiter
Pour through the pages of Scene this month and find the
elusive DeRuiter. Warn your friends. Warn your neighbors. He’s in there somewhere, waiting for the one lucky detective to find him!
LOOK! - Now you can e-mail your detective work too! Include your name, daytime phone and what page you found him.
OR on-line at...
Have you found him in this issue?
If yes, call Scene at 979-1410 ext. 307 to have your name entered in the drawing to receive A GIFT CERTIFICATE TO A LOCAL EATERY. You must make your discovery by March 6, 2017 and the winner will be announced in the next issue of Scene!

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