Yesterday I believe I found the missing link to World Peace. Beauty Pageant hopefuls, listen up.
As I was in the car leaving the Safeway, I spotted a person coming out of the automatic doors about to make his way into the white striped cross walk. I lawfully paused. I was in a rush, and slightly irritated because I feel it always takes me longer to get out of the parking lot of the supermarket than to do the actual shopping. (Note: I really love food shopping. It’s a privilege & a pleasure.) Thankfully I looked up at the man striding across the pavement in time to realize he was a dapper older gentleman in a vest and tie. We locked eyes, and with a slight nod of his head, he lifted his hat, and walked on.
THE HAT TIP.
All irritation gone. All worries for how late I was going to be to work because I got lost in my crossword that morning vanished. The coffee stain in my pants seemed to have disappeared. All considerations for the fact that rhubarb was out of season and hence unavailable ceased. Honestly, the gesture really struck me.
Why did it affect me so? My hunch is to say because it is a lost art (And I do mean art—there was pizzazz and fluidity in his motions). First off, No one really wears hats out, thought it would greatly behoove them in places like Arizona. Another thing to consider is that you really cannot wear stylish hats without a dapper outfit to match. Are the people nowadays able to handle such hounds tooth, tweed, and seersucker? Secondly, we are not taught it in school. I can pledge allegiance to the flag, was forced to read books like Jude the Obscure, but I am 60 years too late for the lesson on hat tipping.
Having a hat tipped in your direction would have been common courtesy to someone like my grandmother, but when it happened to me yesterday it stopped me dead in my tracks. The tipping of the hat is a sort of blind courtesy displayed to a stranger, an acknowledgment of their presence, even if for a fleeting moment. A person feels validated, and pleased as punch. Indeed, a person starts using phrases like being pleased as punch.
Thoroughly convinced of its powers of placation, here are a few situations I would like to introduce a Hat Tip into; the outcomes will be sure to amaze:
Woe, that Mercutio Tipped his Hat, rather than bit his thumb at Tybalt.
Simon and Garfunkel might get back together.
Black Friday may have fewer greed-driven casualties
Ban Ki-moon, just Tip that Hat.
If the Sharks would have included a solid Hat Tip in the general direction of the Jets somewhere within their routine of pirouettes and prances, we may of had a happy ending there, replete with an encore dance scene of bee bop/Latin fusion.
If Bono would have Tipped his Hat at that fateful tree?
A Tip of the Sombrero on the Arizona border?
If Tiger Woods would have…nope. Not even a Hat Tip could have helped him out.
Dr. Phil. That guy could use a good Hat Tip like he could use a good shave of that mustache.
There would be fewer bar brawls/deaths over the contentious argument of Ketchup v. Mustard.
The 99% and the 1% would merrily join hands. (...)
Supermodels would all gain 10 lbs.
Supermodels would all gain 10 lbs.
Everyone on The Real Housewives of New Jersey would share a laugh, a cannoli, and only one gaudy mansion among the lot of them.
Scrooge would have bought a whole lot more fatted geese in the window a whole lot sooner.
Airlines would pay you to check your luggage.
Chocolate would have zero calories.
Humans would achieve the power to fly.
We would live forever.
Simple as that, folks. Tip that Hat.
