I lose my hat

When we were in Hanoi, about 4 years ago (actually only 4 weeks, but it seems like a really long time), I bought this hat to shade my bald head from the blazing tropic sun.  The flower is not part of the hat.  The flower was given to me by an attendant when we visited a temple in Bali.  While we were in Bali, my friend Steve gave me unmerciful grief about the hat.  I was able to completely ignore Steve’s comments because of the ridiculous hat he wore to keep the sun off his bald head.  It looked like an old fashioned plug hat, only it was knitted, and it was knitted by someone who had a lot of very short pieces of yarn to use up.

Today, however, my world changed.  We were walking down the street in Cape Town and a homeless person starting mocking me, “Ooooo.  A cowboy.  John Wayne!”  This was just too much.  I can take being mocked by Steve, but not vagrants on the streets of Cape Town.  My straw hat has been “lost” and I am now wearing my Cal cap exclusively.  The cowboy hat may make a reappearance when we’re on safari later in the month.  If the monkeys start laughing at me, though, the hat gets tossed into the campfire.