Being an incredibly witty and insightful commentator on the absurdities of life is easier when you’re younger. People think you’re simply being delightfully sarcastic or wry.
But when you’re older and you point out something ridiculous, people immediately think you’re just being a grumpy old man, and they will inevitably nail you with that joke about yelling at kids crossing your lawn
The sheer triteness of that joke annoys me almost as much as, well, kids cutting across my lawn. (Hey, fertilizer and seed are expensive. I’m not made of money here. C’mon.)
Here’s what got me thinking about this. The other day I took Henry back-to-college shopping and found myself in a store with a rack of baseball caps. Except these weren’t the kind of baseball caps I’ve worn my whole life.
No, these were those godawful “fashion” baseball caps that younger people wear with the stiff little bills that you’re not supposed to curl, as God and Babe Ruth intended.
I hate those things. I really do. First of all, they look dumb. I’m sorry, they do. The teeny little bills make the wearer look like a duck, not a ballplayer, and the whole point of a baseball cap is to look like a ballplayer or at least someone who likes playing in the dirt.
The idea with a fashion baseball cap, on the other hand, is to keep it looking factory-fresh. Which is, I’m sorry, ridiculous. The first thing any self-respecting kid of my generation did with a new baseball cap is crumple it, stomp it and grind it into the dirt.
Then, and only then, was it fit to wear.
Also, for some reason fashion ball caps are worn slightly askew rather than with the bill pointing forward, as God and Al Kaline intended, which I simply don’t understand. The hats weren’t designed to sit that way on your head. I know because I tried one on. They’re designed to be worn normally. And do you know why? Because clothes, even caps, are never meant to be worn cockeyed. You don’t see anyone walking around wearing pants, shirts or shoes turned one tick to the side, do you?
So why hats? Why do “kids these days” (yes, I went there) insist on wearing this one item that way?
The lovely yet formidable Marcia says, “Just to irritate you, dear.”
Well, it’s working! I immediately posted a photo of the hat rack to Facebook and said, “I want to bend the bill of every one of them.”
That, of course, prompted the lawn jokes in response.
But, listen, I didn’t gripe about the hats because I’m old. I griped about them because I believe that if we don’t mock the dumb things in life then they never fade away, as dumb things should. (The Macarena is a good example.)
Up with that, I shall not put. And thus this column.
Pointing out the absurdity of duck-billed fashion hats doesn’t make me “old.” It makes me observant, insightful and … whup, hold on.
Gotta get back out on the porch. I think I hear the neighbor kids coming.
Photo by Nina Strehl on Unsplash
i think they should be mandatory for the Detroit Tigers until they start winning. Kids will spend up to $120 each so they can line their closet shelves with them. Young males collect them like our wives collect shoes.
We have at least two generations of Pretty American Girls who have inflicted cheesey, creepy blue tattoos on their God-given lovely skin.
AWESOME column Andy!! I shared it on Facebook. While we are talking about baseball caps, it drives me insane to see the nitwits with them on BACKWARDS!! Whom ever started that stupid fad should not be allowed to wear a cap ever again… in my humble ole opinion. Keep up the great work!! 🙂
The only cap I would like to stomp on is a red one that has the letters MAGA on it!
The backward baseball cap has an honorable origin: Real baseball catchers started wearing them backward over a century ago. They turned the caps around, because the cap bills interfered with their catchers’ masks. Many baseball catchers still do this. They wear batting helmets backward, with the catchers’ masks on the front
Go Marcia! When my husband talks about “people who do this or that” , and “people who are constantly on their phones”, and even the Railroad Workers who blow the train horn too long and too many times by our house, I love to tell him the same thing: “Just to irritate you, hon !”
Keep on being that crabby old man. I believe I’ve earned the right to be the crabby old lady who has the freedom to say things are stupid when they are. Like pants sagging down showing your underware, duck billed caps, tattoos, etc.
Being old and crabby has its rewards. I am enjoying the hell out of them.