When the Cherished Blogfest came to my attention, I realized my entry had already been written. I wrote it a while back, a simple, silly, humor essay about my baseball cap.
The challenge was to write about one of my cherished objects and having an essay on hand let me off the hook. I didn’t have to explain to all the other cherished (but jealous) objects why I did not pick them.
My wife: “How come you didn’t write about me?”
Me: “Because it was supposed to be about an object. Should I objectify you?”
My wife: “Nice try, buster.”
It works better this way. Now all I have to say is “You know how lazy I am, I just went with something I had.”
But that is not true (sorry dear), I felt that I had said something in the essay about cherishing and how commercial culture entices us to throw away the things we love.
I won’t go into all that here. You will have to read the essay for that… but before you do, I want to thank the writers who put this blogfest together and to encourage you to explore the writings of its participants.
See My Baseball Cap
Almost Iowa 
I’ve had exactly one baseball cap in my life. It was lime green, and when I discovered that Snap-On was stocking a lime green ratcheting screwdriver that matched it perfectly — well, I was quite something down on the dock, let me tell you. Then, the screwdriver went overboard, Snap-On wasn’t making them in lime green any more, and I put the cap away. It languished in a drawer until it went to Goodwill or somewhere. I just couldn’t bear to wear it.
But I especially liked your larger points in the essay: especially the truth that most cherished objects are incarnations of memory. When I look around my house, it’s not classy in any decorator’s sense, but everywhere I look, I see a part of myself.
That may be truer than you think.
There is a wonderful novel by the Irish writer Brian O’Nolan titled “The Third Policeman” in which he plays with the physics of two objects exchanging matter. In the case of the novel, it is a policeman and his bicycle. In some small way, the policeman becomes the bicycle and the bicycle becomes the policeman. So you see, it is more than just incarnations of memory we share with our cherished object. 🙂
This is great. I still have my favourite Expos hat from 1979. I got it for my fifth birthday. It is old, worn, but still part of my life. Thanks!
Thank you for participation. I had a favourite cap that said ‘Friend’ on it and it was one of my special ones. Your post reminded me of that cap. Lovely post.
Glad to bring up pleasant memories. 🙂
How you ever stay out of trouble with the wife I will never know.
She says I am a source of constant trouble. I say she has it backwards. 🙂
The Music Man? Wasn’t that an Iowa thing? We are (safely) across the border in Minnesota. Up here, we ain’t got that kind of trouble.
You do know that one man’s Minnesota is another man’s Iowa?
Love that all over again. I have a deep respect for old well-loved things.
As an old well loved thing myself I appreciate the respect
I thought you were going to write (again) about your lawn tractor. The cap is a great choice. I have lost a couple of special caps, so I need to go with something that is more permanent. Thanks for joining us in this blogfest.
The lawn tractor was a fun story – but a sad one. My wife got it in the end. I still have my cap though. 🙂
Thanks for the heads-up about the blogfest.
My pleasure. I always enjoy reading your stuff.
Oh yeah, I remember your beloved cap. If it holds dreams it can’t be tossed fir they are the future. Luckily our heads don’t change size like our bodies. It was a sad day when I had to face the fact (not the mirror) that my ‘forever favs’ could grace a hangar but no longer my hips. *snif*
I have special drawer for my old event t-shirts. They speak of marathons, five mile swims and bike rides across the state. Those days are gone. Now all I do is walk with Scooter. Still it is hard to part with them.
I understand. Sometimes we wonder if it was really us that experienced all those ‘glories’, and clothing is a good marker of validation. Earlier chapters of ourselves but very much part of the book.
Very enjoyable. I liked both posts. 🙂
Hey thanks, Russel.
Off to visit your baseball cap but I must say nice dialogue between your wife and you.
All of our conversations end with, “Nice try, buster.”
Thanks for participating! Off to read that post 🙂
Hey, thanks for the opportunity to participate.
I recall that post well! A very good one I must say
Thanks, it is one of my favorites — because it is about hats.
My wife and I already have the pact that MPR suggested…one new hat/shirt/pair of shoes/whatever in the door, one to the curb. It keeps the clutter at bay, but makes for some agonizing decisions. And it should be noted that we instituted this rule AFTER we were done having children.
We have talked about a similar agreement, though we modified it a bit. The proposal was: one new item in/two old items out. At that rate, we will clear our closet by 2072.
I remember this post, liked it then and still like it now. Occasionally, I sneak a cap to toss out of my husband’s massive collection. Really, there should be a rule–new cap in, one old cap out.
I have a massive collection too, or so she says. I still don’t know why I can’t find a cap when it is raining. I grown used to not asking her. Whenever I do, she finds one within arm’s reach. Why is that?
You’ve got me looking around the room wondering what I would write about. Definitely mustn’t objectify spouse or dog.
Oh, go ahead, objectify that spouse — but the dog…
Terrific post on your old baseball cap and you’re right about the past , dreams and everything something like an old worn can mean and symbolize. I have a few things like that also and I intend to keep them until I’m no longer around to dig them out..:) well said.
Hopefully when you are no longer around, someone else will dig them out. After all, some of mankind’s most prized possessions were dug out of garbage pits.
Lol…you are so right.