Hang Your Hat on This

You know what's been burnin' my tailpipe lately? These g-ed up, gangsta types with the brims on their ballcaps completely straight as the pope (who is certainly waaaaayyyy straighter than any priest).

When I was a kid I always viewed learning how to shape the perfect brim as part of learning hoow to be a man. Kind of like shaving, but at an earlier age. The dorkiest of dweebs were the only kids with arrow-straight brims. These brims and whoever adorned them were considered laughable piles of flesh at best.


I remember the first brim I had my hand in shaping. It was my first hat I got after starting little league and I fucked it up beyond all recognition of any expression of something manly. First, I gave it a good, firm crease down the center and it had that ole A-frame, pitched-roof feel to it. Tiring of that, I sharply creased each side about 3/4 the way to the end. Then, after that, I combined the two initial bends and went for a barn-roof-inspired look. Luckily I was 6 or I really would have looked and felt like a royal jackass. By the time my team, sponsored by Irvin's Hardware, won the championship (thanks, in great part, by my 6-year-old tookas's ability to give that bench womb-like warmth) all hat was left of the cardboard structure of the hat was a mushy mess, unable to retain any shape. (and in that shape, it still looked head and shoulders above these straight-brimmed tough guys.)

The next ballcap I remember acquiring was at Knoebels Grove, an amusement park a few hours from home. It was
one of those trucker-style hats with a dark-blue brim and mesh and the front upright section was white and rose just a bit too high. I had my name pressed on it in those fuzzy, iron-on letters. Yeah, that's right, everyone knew whose hat that was. I liked the damned thing so much that I knew I was not yet ready to cultivate the brim on it, so I entrusted my dad with the duty of creating the initial arch. After all, he had long-ago mastered the art of creating the perfect, man's man arch on his brim.

Ballcaps in general, growing up in Central PA, were part in parcel for any dude. And how that brim was shaped played a large role in what kind of dude you were. Overarched could work well on either a weasel with something to hide or a tough guy. But for a man of refined quality, his brim should have the perfect arch. That showed you were a man's man, but didn't need to flaunt it.

Maybe hats didn't and don't have quite the masculine importance that I once placed upon them...but still, every time I see a straight brim, I can't help but laugh--ahahaha--at the hat and the shithead wearing it.