Archive for November, 2015

Musings of a Drunken @#$hole #3

November 27, 2015 1 comment

FedoraI wonder; when exactly did we all become fearful of the fedora? Did the hipsters and the too-cool-for-schoolers get together and pass a mandate against it?

Did the seemingly superior fashion sense of our gay and ethnic counterparts being able to “Pull Off The Look” better, intimidate us and make us decided to abandon it?

I mean I wear mine not as a fashion statement, or as some poor pathetic attempt at raging against societal norms. No, I wear mine simply because its comfortable. It fits perfectly on my head, and does everything that a hat ought to do. Keeps the hair out of my face, and the sweat from my eyes.

A friend of mine attempted to theorize that it’s just plain old fashion, and doesn’t say anything about who we are now. I think about this theory as I look around the room and see a sea of baseball caps, and can’t help but wonder. What a cap turned backwards on the head of some drunken slob sitting next to me is trying to say, sporting a cap of a team he clearly doesn’t possess the athletic prowess play for.

Longing, perhaps?

Is that why the fedora is feared so? Not because it evokes longing of something we might  not ever have, but something we did have once; and lost.

Innocence, perhaps?

Maybe that’s why people look at me so strangely when I walk down the street. My hat reminds them of a more innocent time. A time when they had hopes and dreams, and anything was possible. Before compromise made it’s way into their life.

Compromises they made based on fear. Fear of what was or wasn’t thought about them, and why they even gave a crap to begin with.

Maybe that’s it, maybe that’s why the Fedora is feared so.

I’m not sure, but deep thoughts like this deserves another drink; don’t you think?


Musings of a Drunken @#$hole #2

November 9, 2015 Leave a comment

Glass of whiskeyHey, you look like you can relate to feminism. Me, I found myself relating more to it a few years back, when my ex-wife gave me a copy of ‘The Feminine Mystique.’  A joke on her part. How do I know this? Well, because it was accompanied by a Dear John letter, which was lovingly found inside a birthday card, which she attached to the book.

I read the book from cover to cover, because the last thing I wanted, was for her to have the satisfaction of thinking, “I just didn’t get it.” Unfortunately after reading it, I had to agreed with that hypnosis. I did indeed,  not get it.

Not that I didn’t get the book. It’s a lovely book. It really open my eyes, to problem between sexes. It made me want to read more. And the more that I read, the more I was horrified by the inequality of it all. That’s what I did not get. How did this happen? Or more specifically, how did this happen to me?

If anyone should have got it, I felt like it should have been me. I was alway surrounded by strong women in my family. My Ex was a strong woman, just like my mother, and my grandmother before her. If anyone should have got it, it should have been me. After marriage though, as a man, I found myself becoming the very problem in which these books outlined. The desire to have a woman at home, to take care of me, and the theoretical children that we might have had.

I would provide for her, and she would create a home. It was an unspoken pact which seemed to benefit us both. Why would she want anything more?  A concept as old as time, so it seemed. What I did not get, at the time, was the concept is a trap.

I philosophical joke, left for us, by the Universe itself.

We are man, and we rule over all. An overwhelmingly attractive idea; don’t you think? What’s not to get?

Don’t think so, huh, I can see it in your eyes.

I often thought, what would happen if the rolls suddenly reserved themselves? What would happen if the women took over? See if the oppressed became the oppressor. Watch, the fairer sex, slowly not become so fair anymore. Watch them, corrupt themselves, and find themselves in the mud of lost ideals. Maybe then, equality would be achieved. Maybe then, we would all finally, get it.

Who knows? Not me, that’s for sure.

I don’t know if get it, or if I ever got it. You look like a wise woman though, maybe if you can buy me a drink, and take me home afterwards. Well, maybe, just maybe, we can see if we can help each other, finally get it?