The Cat In The Hat

I used to hate wearing hats. Since arriving in Spain, however, I discovered that if I wear a decent hat when it rains, I don’t have to carry an umbrella.

That hat became known as my Frank Sihatra Not (as friend Darrin said when his tongue slipped, meaning to say “Frank Sinatra hat” click here for that story).

I’ve had a shiny head for many years and the sun has never bothered me. This year, however, I’ve noticed I’m not as tough (meaning “young”) as I used to be when it comes to the sun’s heat. I’ve been hit with heat exhaustion a couple of times and I don’t want to end up with heatstroke.

It’s time to give in to the hat. (My father hated hats even more than I do and he gave in to the hat when he was in his 40s.)


I popped into a local market this morning while out for a walk and I found a lightweight, casual cap (as opposed to the two summer-weight Frank Sihatra Nots I have in the house).

I like everything about the cap except for the fact that it’s got a little tag that says “SPORTS.” There were other hats without the tag but they were heavy canvas. I shared my thoughts with the shop owner. He told me I was “delgado” and “un deportista” (slim and an athlete) and “Eh-sports” (his pronunciation) was appropriate in my case. I bought it. Hook line and sinker.

So, back to the title of this post: I am the Cat and this is my hat.

Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..

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