Put A Lid On It

Today's topic (notice how I have just resigned myself to non-specific timeframes to avoid the fact that it's been one month since my last entry...and I call myself a writer??!) is "#44. Total number of ballcaps I own." Well, we can see why I needed more time to noodle on that one. I'd like to say I've spent the last 30 days taking inventory, but the truth is I haven't even checked. I'm going to go solely off my near-photographic memory and say...

1. Green with white S on front - Go Spartans

2. White with The Legends Tour logo (I have 2)

3. Black with the LTOC logo

4. Red Wings! #19 Maltby

5. Red with the Innisbrook logo

6. Black with Action Cat

7. White with LPGA Golf Clinics for Women logo

8. Blue with The Daily Fix with Sue Fracker (I have 6...interested?)

9. White with Wendy's Charity Classic

10. Red with Wendy's Charity Classic

11. Gold with Wendy's Charity Classic

12. Stone with Cascades Golf Course

13. White with U.S. Open

14. Blue with University of Maryland

15. Blue with Detroit Tigers

That is, of course, just off the top of my head...(heh heh). I'm not sure where I fit in when it comes to chicks and ballcaps: borderline hoarder or average doffer? I feel like I have more than most considering I only listed what I may have worn in recent memory and I have an enormous basement. Needless to say, I love baseball caps. I would wear one all the time if permitted and approved. I would be like a self-conscious balding fella. Just throw a lid on! You go from geeky to my, your eyes are stunning in about two seconds. Hats transform people. A ballcap can actually make you look athletic or youthful or in my case, a sir instead of a ma'am. I get it all the time. I throw a cap on and suddenly I become sir, buddy, pal, dude, brother, mister or any of the variety of male descriptors available when consulting a stranger from behind or at a distance. As soon as I turn around and look someone in the eye, however, I'm a ma'am again. I hate ma'am. Not that I love sir, mind you, considering I wear mascara and have been working on my girlish walk for years, but seriously, sir is way better than ma'am. When I get hit with ma'am I kinda want to correct it back to sir. Which is awkward considering the poor soul just realized his or her gaff and just wants to be polite.

(To me, behind me in line at the store): "Excuse me, sir?"

(I turn around): "Yes?"
(Startled, a little unsure): "Oh, sorry, I mean, ma'am?"

(Me, equally perplexed): "Ma'am? Do I look like your mother?"
(Hesitant, awkward): "No, no, of course not, sir."
(Me, raised eyebrow): "Dude, I'm not a dude."

(Nervous laugh): "No ma'am, I'm sorry, I think it's the hat."

(Me, incredulous): "I am not a ma'am!"
(Stepping back, palms up): "Take it easy, brother."

(Me, removing hat, sighing): "Make that sister, pal."

You'd think the older I get the less likely I am to don a ballcap and go, but it's just such a great solution when your hair is uncooperative or you're feeling especially casual. I know I look like I'm heading to a game or just came from one, but wearing a cap is a source of comfort I liken to eating a huge bowl of mac n cheese. It just feels good. It feels right. Even if others might judge otherwise. Perhaps that's why I have so many hats. Also, I forget to pack them when I travel so I end up having to buy one in the pro shop or at the stadium or at a random kiosk in the mall. This is the same manner in which I have come by countless toothbrushes and personal hygiene product bottles less than 4 oz in size. I wouldn't say I'm a collector of hats, but clearly I have enough to outfit a league of misfits for Sunday afternoon pick-up games down by the Charles. I have enough to bequeath to my nieces and nephews, several apiece. And I have enough to stack on top of my head, wrap into a giant beehive hairdo and head for the movies, where I'm certain I will be called ma'am and asked to sit in the back. I'll let you know...