A Knife with Balls
When I was in college my buddies and I were able to raise money for charity by getting behind the grill and selling hotdogs and beer at the stadium during Chargers games. It had its perks; free dogs and booze, an opportunity to see at least half of each game for free from the nosebleeds, and honestly, it’s not too often you get a chance to eat nachos and do the wave in the name of philanthropy. The biggest perk out of the whole thing, oddly enough, turned out to be a part of the uniform. We had to wear a white collared shirt, black slacks, a red apron, and a navy blue ball cap. The shirt and pants I had to provide on my own but the stadium gave me the Hebrew National apron and the hat. Now, almost a decade later, the red apron sits in the bottom of a dusty box in the back of my garage, lost among the yearbooks, knickknacks, and random goofy broken gadgets I’ve acquired over the years. The hat on the other hand, is still sitting proudly on my desk in my house. The first time I put it on it just fit perfectly and ever since that moment I have kept that hat close. Its once dark blue pigment has faded into a brownish green. The bill is perfectly curved and beginning to fray. The fabric is so grimy it has become tacky to the touch. It is my hat. I have worn it nearly religiously for all these years. It’s been to parties, camping trips, work outs, barbeques, and I will continue to don it until to falls into a million brownish dirty pieces and I am forced to send it Valhalla in a traditional Viking funeral.
It’s not strange, it’s just how guys are. When we find something we really like we stick with it. Some things just have a certain feel, look, or style that speaks to us. That hat is just my style. It’s me. It is something that I’ll never give up, just like my jeans, my truck, and now, my CRKT Ripple knife.
My New Best Friend