I’ve tried pretty hard over the years to not get too far from my rural roots, of which I am proud. I recently bought a nice baseball-type cap at a store which caters to rural people with “Farm Boy” written on the front of it. I think it suits me.
But when you live in the city, the hayseed schtick has to be reined in a bit. When I am in my backyard, which is surrounded by a six-foot-high privacy fence, I will happily wear my farmer’s straw hat, which I should wear to keep the sun from further damaging my tender skin. And if the day is hot, I might even take off my shirt. (On reflection, maybe that is why the house next door has sold over and over again for the past 15 years. Hmmm.)
But as backwoods proud as I am, I don’t seem to be able to summon up the courage to go straw hat clad and shirtless in my front yard. To me, that would be kind of like giving up the facade I have developed. I want to be a city slicker and country bumpkin all at the same time. To be honest, I’m not sure I am either one at this stage in my life.
Nevertheless, having lost my nicely toned physique somewhere in my 30s, I am reluctant to foist images of a topless me on the brains of innocent passersby who would have otherwise done nothing wrong but walk by my house at an inopportune time. So, if I am in the backyard wearing a straw hat and no shirt, I will don a shirt and a baseball cap before I go to the front yard to water flowers or cut lawn. Seems only fair to everyone involved, including me.
But last night as I went for my walk, I was confronted by my neighbour George, a widower slightly older than me, who was out cutting his lawn in a huge straw hat and with no shirt on. Taking a quick glance, if I was his fashion consultant, I might have recommended a shirt, as George has shown up for every meal for many years, just like I have. But if being half naked in full view of passersby bothered him, he wasn’t showing it. Maybe he was counting on people not noticing his state of undress as they stared at his oversized cowboy hat made of actual straw.
You know, I will admit to a certain admiration for George. He lost his wife a couple of years back and now, sitting in his driveway, is a convertible he bought a week ago, something he and his wife always planned to do. He also has a new lady in his life. I think there is a connection between the convertible, his new friend, the hat and the toplessness. I think he probably just wants to live the rest of his life not worrying what all those passersby might think.
“I’m going through my second childhood,” he told me, with a chuckle. “I’m still finishing my first one,” I replied.
So, if you see me semi-naked under a big straw hat cutting my front lawn, you can assume Childhood No. 2 has arrived. For confirmation, check to see if there is a sports car in my driveway. And a Buddy Holly CD in the stereo.
©2015 Jim Hagarty
