Well, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hatYes, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
Well, you must tell me, baby
How your head feels under somethin' like that
Under your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat.
Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat - Bob Dylan
When you're bald, whether by preference or not, you have to wear a hat in the sun. The risk of skin cancer is too great these days to let vanity prevail and besides, there's nothing worse than running an electric razor over a sunburned head. Unless of course it's a disposable razor over sunburned legs. I'll have to ask my female friends about that one. At any rate, I have to wear a hat. Contrary to popular belief my head is rather small. In fact, the "one size fits all" baseball hats do not fit my head. I look rather foolish in them as they flop over my ears unless I cinch them tight in the back so they get all bunched up. At Art in the Park last week I spotted a new hat. It's called a "cafe hat". It reminds me of the old Chairman Mao Red Army campaign hats. This one has an artsy design with a bird in a circle of dots. Petty urban chic I think. Oh, and it was sold by the Boise Art Museum (BAM) so I'm supporting a good cause. My friend Tony from New York says it's ultra urban hip because BAM stands for the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Everyone in the know about New York City's art scene would give an arm and a leg for one of these babies.
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