I was wearing the hat in Jackson Hole, more for rain protection than for the sun. Everyone says hello to everyone else in the Town Square, I learned, native or not, and I learned quickly to nod and smile at anyone passing going the other way.
After one unremarkable smile-and-nod about a half-a-block later I hear a gruff, nondescript "Hey" from behind me which of course I ignored until I heard the additional, "Hey lady. You. In the pink." I turned and mouthed to a person approaching a confused, "Me?"
"Uh huh. You. What's that hat say? I want to see that hat again."
So I sucked in a little air and, possibly scowling a bit, I began, almost with an apologetic tone of voice. "You see, I'm from Massachoooosetts," I said, "and we run, well, a little bluer than some folks out here."
"Oh, I'm from Atlanta, and I know all about blue, believe me. I love your hat. Where'd you get it?"
Relieved, I told him about (and will now also tell you about) "Wonkette, W-O-N-K-E-T-T-E dot-com," I spelled out slowly. "The international home of the resistance."
We exchanged first names, and Bert went on to tell me just how disgusted he is with what's happening in Washington, and that, being retired, it's his full time job to keep from letting himself get too depressed every day. So we commiserated a few more minutes until his ride pulled up, and he moved to get into the car.
As he was getting in, I caught back up to him. "Bert! Here - take it." and I handed him my hat.
"No, I couldn't," he replied, but I insisted. "I know where to get another one," I reminded him.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a $20 bill and tried to give it to me. I refused, and he refused my refusal. His car was waiting, so I laughed, and took it and thanked him. I already knew I was going to buy another hat, so I bought an extra one to give away next time. You can, too. Right here.
I wish I'd gotten a picture of we two amigos. This one will have to do.
 |
| Leigh Lake, Grand Teton National Park |
