E-mail about hatcapacity
one part truth,one part fiction

An e-mail about hats in my life
 Do people always remember hats with fondness. I do.
I go back first to my beanies, the one with the propeller on top they were the rage at one time. The other beanie had folded back edges, looking like they were cut with pinking shears, this beanie was adorned with pins and buttons.
Next was the brown Fedora, the hat my mothers dad put aside, not wanting to through it away.
I asked if I could have it, he said yes, imagine the raiders with their lost arcs.
The blue ball cap that was worn backwards or to the side, our gang style, with no logos, just a button on top.
The black Spanish hat my aunt had. A flat stiff brim. It's beads hanging around the rim. I wore it, though it was hers. The castanets went with it, she rolled the castanets like a Spaniard would roll his rrrs. I danced for her, standing proud like a matador, stomping my feet to the music "Malagueña"  on the record player, ole!
The Cowboy hat, you rode the broom stick, like a wild stallion. Your shiny silver pistol in the air.
The Coonskin cap with it's tail hanging to the side, the lice came with it.
The Indian head dress, received as a Christmas present. This still may be found at the dollar store today.
The English driving cap, plaid with buckle and snap on the bill.
The white sailors cap, rolled with salt, down to the eyes and cocked.
The blue bandana keeping the salt out of your eyes, Red Ryder and Geronimo, sometimes with feather.
The Sombrero given to Laurel and I in Chicago from Judy and, it hung on the wall. When it finally fell or was draged down, the cats sharpened their claws on it, what a waist.
The blue Fedora given in peace to us from Laurel's dad Jack. It fell to our closet floor, unknown to us. Our male cat at the time, marked it as his own, gee thanks.
The white hard hat, something to protect from the hard steel headache ball swinging on the river. It still gave me headaches.
The baseball caps of the South, logos everywhere, the uniform of the day in the south..
Straw Panama hats keeping the sun at bay.



 Well I've done it again! Laurel just informed me that the E-mail message I sent was in error.
Laurel said that the message that we received was about "Brain Capacity" not "Hat Size". I said something about just scanning through the E-mail that day.
  She said "Do you remember when you had your back surgery?"
I said "Yes".
  She went on to explain to me about my brain capacity, and then what the neurologist said to her after my brain catscan.
 It seemed to the neurologist, that I had a rare brain structure called the "jerrold forrd" syndrome. It seems that a few people in the world are born with this brain syndrome. Living normal lives, sometimes missing a step or two, but normal lives. Laurel went on to say that I had four lobes in my brain instead of two. The doctor said most of the forrd brains had three lobes, but that he would get back to her on that one. She went on to say that my brain used 95 percent of it's capacity, which was very very good, but that it worked a little different than most brains. Most people have a train of thought, where as the train carries a great amount of thought to and fro, with a great many trains of thoughts moving though their brains at one time. Well in your brain ( she was talking to me), it seems that you have a trolley of thought. She went on the explain that one trolley of thought went down the hill and one trolley of thought went up the hill. And that even though I had as many as fifty trollies moving at one time, a trolley was not a train.
 She said you'll have to write all those people and explain about the hats.
Anyway that is how I got started talking about my favorite hats.
Sorry for the mix-up.

It is fall, the leaves are turning red. Sometimes we go beyond the limits of normal living, whatever that means. I know of people that would rather live in the woods that live in the cities. I live in the country in a small community. It is a compromise with the mate. A little city, a little country. I love the inventions that man has created. I sometimes wonder how long I would survive without these inventions. I tried to live without all these invention, but that was impossible. The planes and stars are constant reminders of what I learned in school. Here is a reminder of how great the mind is, how the simple is great.
I was standing by the front door when Laurel came home from work. She had groceries in the car. I heard "How long have you been standing there?" Startled, I looked her way, seeing that she had groceries I went to her aid. I pick up five plastic bags and headed for the front door. She seemed surprised that the front door was locked. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked  I said that I have been home awhile. Do you know what you were doing? I said that I was looking at the door handle. She looked at me surprised. I went on to explain to her the importance of the discovery of the handle. Who exactly invented the handle? She walked away. I said don't you think that handles are important? She started unpacking the bags, I helped her put the groceries away. Do you know that you have been standing out by the door for a good half hour? I was thinking about all the handles we see everyday, the importance of this discovery. I never saw anything about this in school? She started cleaning off the table. I started emptying the dishwasher. I headed for the computer. What are you doing she asks? I going to find out everything there is on handles on the Internet. She says "stop" very softly. I start loading the dish washer. Maybe I'll know more about handles tomorrow. Handles are amazing.
pots and pans
1952 While growing up in California, I resented the days of washing pots and pans. Young children want to go out and play after dinner.
1960 During my stay in the military, part of my duties were to wash pots and pans, these jobs were assigned as once a year job assignments, no big deal.
1963 Getting started after coming out of the service, a person has to start somewhere, cleaning pots and pans is one of the first starter jobs and then you move on.
1967 When a person lives on a commune a person feels responsible for taking care of a group of people, everyone on the commune shares with the responsibilities, and one chore that I performed was to wash pots and pans.
1998 Just today as I was washing the pots and pans left over from Thanksgiving dinner I saw the reflection of new ideas and thoughts in bright labor and clear water.
cat on my head
 Laurel is perfectly happy to have a dozen cats running around the area.
 Last year we were down to four cats. Two outside cats ,a stud (Possum, guess what he looks like?)(He was a Tom) and his mate (Girlfriend)(she was a lady). We kept things from getting out of hand. Two inside cats who were ladies(Alley Cat, found by Eli in a alley in Hammond, Ind. and Sweetie who came by our house one day and moved on in, one day I asked Laurel who is that?, she looked at Sweetie(She is a house cat, it is to cold or to hot out side,but just right inside) who was taking a dump in the kitty litter, and said that's not our cat, it looks like, maybe? I don't know? oh well) All the former ladies have had liters, all the kittens have been given to farmers who love cats, cats are mousers. I was perfectly happy with these four.
 Allison stopped by a couple of months ago and said "I found this black cat at school, he needs some help, could you help me mom." Laurel said can I ? Tom said no. Please? Ok just until the cat gets back on it's feet. Tom "that's me " named this cat Davy Crockett. While sitting at the computer writing about Morningstar the cat jumped off the printer on to my head. The little tiny kitten sat on my head as I typed, it's tail hanging down alongside my glasses, hence Davy Crockett and his coonskin cap.
 Two days later Sandra calls (The Angel of Kentucky). She has this cat she does not know what to do with, it keeps getting under her feet. Sandra was in a recent car accident, Laurel went and got the orange cat (Peaches), somebody at school told this cat to drink eight glasses of water a day, what a pisher? Sitting at the computer today I hear water running, I look over at the faucet, nothing there? I soon realize that it is Peaches the pisher soaking the kitty litter. We took her to the vet. She is good and healthy, she drinks eight glasses of water a day.
 Now we have two kittens, no wait. Laurel came home for lunch the other day, six weeks ago. In her hand she had this greasy ball of bones, the flea's had to climb up and down this kittens rib cage. This kitten had rode in a car for fifteen miles, his little brain was startled. Ok Ok  She named him Odyssey.
 These cats love it outdoors now, it took them a while, the out of doors awakens their senses. For a while there they had to come inside to go potty, what the hell is this world coming to, when a hard nose like me lets a cat come in to go potty. Enough!! They stayed out side for two days learning the ropes, Laurel said let them in.
 They come and go now, their cats.
  Changing your mind
The society we live in is fast paced. So I have found it necessary to change my mind from time to time. After work I usually head home, I move right to the bathroom. In the lower left hand drawer is where my extra minds are stored. My work mind is filled with water tables, rainfalls, three day predictions, "Yes sir, can we help you?", and other factors that let the river flow free. My home mind, cleans up around the house, talks to cats, pleases or not pleases Laurel, watches the latest ball games, etc. My space mind wanders around the house looking at fish tanks, doorknobs, empty bowls, sunrises and sunsets. This last mind is by far the most pleasurable, since pleasure finds its way to the most discreet areas of my body just by laughing and thinking good thoughts.
Thanks to Lou
The internet as an art form
Take a Hippie to Lunch


Back to Dennis

Words & Graphics by Tomas