My face is red because I have a slight sunburn. I was at a picnic on Friday and once again I wasn’t wearing my hat. I started out with a baseball hat, but it kept slipping off my fat head.
Baseball hats (“one size fits all”) do not fit my head.
My head is oddly shaped and far too large for most baseball hats.
(Am I related to Homo habilis?) Having a large head is not a drawback in most situations, though I often wish that large head size correlated to other appendages.
I was born at the wrong time for hats anyway. I am far too young to wear a hat and look as cool as the chapeau-wearing men did during the golden age of hats and far too old to wear a baseball hat and look anything but pathetic.
Besides, a baseball hat offers little protection from the sun. I invariably end up with the tops of my ears sunburned and a neck that looks like it just came off an elderly desert tortoise.
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Why am I worrying about hats right now?
I am starting to pack for my next trip. Packing is probably too strong of a word, I am obsessing about packing, which is, for me, probably the most satisfying part of any trip. I haven’t actually packed anything yet and I have a little more than two weeks to fret before my plane leaves for Bangkok.
I can’t be seen on Khao San Road wearing aTilley Hat even if they are the hat equivalent of sensible shoes, I just can’t do that yet.
Maybe when I get a Reliant, an anorak and become a twitcher, but not just yet. I still have a bit of youthful pride.