I wrote this poem just for fun after a relative told me she had joined the Red Hat club. She said it’s a club where ladies get together, wear red hats and have a good time.
.
She said I’m not old enough to wear a red hat in their club. I’m not sure what the age requirements are. But women who are younger than the red hats can join the club and be little sisters in pink hats.
.
Well, harumph.
.
Yes, my indignation is feigned. I’m not really much of a group person. I don’t know anything about the Red Hat club. I have nothing against anybody who wants to celebrate life. It sounds great.
.
Plus, I ain’t about to disrespect them and get a zillion women mad at me. That would be nuts. The “lady” requirement would probably get me banned anyway.
.
But it did get me thinking about what my hat will look like…symbolically speaking. Or what it looks like right now.
.
I might not be ready for the red hat, but I’m surely not a kid. Ask the kids who live down the road from me. They’ll tell you I’m older than the dirt under Methuselah’s toenails. I think I’ve earned the right to wear it.
.
This is my daughter’s worst nightmare, because she knows I’m going to do it. Maybe someday when I’m older. Or maybe this weekend.
.
My Hat
Julie Buffaloe-Yoder
.
When I am old enough
to earn the right
to wear a hat,
.
I will not join groups
or sip Pinot Noir
in air conditioned
living rooms.
.
I will wear
a psychedelic
go to hell..hat
.
lit up with
sparklers
and spinning
neon pink
azaleas.
.
I will dance
with stray dogs
down the middle
of Main Street
.
in the biggest
most bodacious
funkalicious
Super Freak hat
imaginable.
.
People will say,
The poor old thing
has lost her mind
under that wide brim.
.
I will just grin
like a rabid
Cheshire cat
.
shedding sequins
and flames
on their little
same streets.
.
My hat will have sirens.
My hat will have bat wings,
whirligigs, pink flamingos.
.
It will play Old School Rock.
Shoot confetti from a cannon.
Quote poetry over loudspeakers.
.
Crows will fly
out of the top
of my hat
and form the words
PISS OFF
in the setting sun.
.
On that hallelujah
wrinkled cloud
blue vein day
.
when I have finally
earned the right
to wear my hat,
.
I will be
a dancing
billboard
for the joys
of adulthood,
.
a statue of liberty,
a cowgirl in the sand,
a one-woman band,
.
a kiss my ass
celebration
of all that is holy,
crazy and aging
and me.
.
.
P.S. to My Relatives –
No, I don’t mean I want people to go to hell. You know good and well what a go to hell hat is. You’re from the South.
I mean…Yes, Ma’am. You’re right. I’m wrong.
.
.
P.S. To Everybody – Symbolically speaking…what does your hat look like?
.
.
I am sorry. I was looking for the poem clinic,
but I see you’re occupied.
Wheel me in after you douse the flames
on that souped- up renegade buffalo -
the one in the silly hat.
*****************************************************
Hi, Jack! I want to know what your hat looks like, dernit. I know you like air conditioner. Maybe yours has fur on it? Ha! ha! Hee! hee! -J
What a sparkling, funny, kick’m in the ass poem, Julie. I love it, and let me be clear: I love any woman who will “dance with stray dogs,” summon crows to “form the words PISS OFF in the setting sun,” and “be a dancing billboard for the joys of adulthood.” I even love the postscript, knowing how those who come from the South — that would include me — are always a little concerned that the folks “down there” don’t get it. One of these days, you are going to have to tell me which part of the South created this voice of yours.
Thanks for another enchantingly funny poem.
Hi, George! Good ole Carolina. She is me:)
My relatives have recently discovered my blog, and I like to tease them (and they me) on occasion. They’ve been pretty good sports so far. They’re actually very supportive, even if they do think I’m nuts…haha!
Thanks so much for the good words, George. I appreciate it very much!
P.S. – George, I had to come back and say thanks for mentioning the crows. Haha! I love crows. Before I moved, I had some trained to eat out of my hand. They are amazingly smart birds! If one landed next to me, I would say, “Okay, now. Just move over and be patient. I’ll give you some food.” And it would move over a few inches and wait. I gave them names, and they responded to the names.
The ones here are pretty wild, but they’re warming up to me. I intend to teach them to do a performance of “The Raven” with me. When I get to “quoth the raven,” they will caw. Haha! I can be the crazy crow lady:)
I’ll have you know you’re not allowed in the red hats club. Never ever never.
Kidding. I’m not one, either.
I love the poem. I used to hate poetry until I started reading your blog. I thought it was all stuffed shirts and uppity pukey people. Thank you for showing me what poetry is. I’m not your relative, but I feel like one every week.
****************************************************
Hi, Anonymous! I wouldn’t want to be part of an organization that would have me as a member…haha! Wasn’t that Groucho Marx?
Are you sure you’re not related to me? You feel like kin. Uppity pukey people!! HA! HA! HA! I love that. Well, we can be “honorary” kinfolk, okay?
Thanks so much for reading. I love what you said, and I appreciate it so much. That’s what it’s all about! Please drop in anytime. You made my day. -Julie
WOOHOO!!
Go to hell is the new black…
Everyone needs one of your kinds of hats. I think the lining of this hat would be made up of erotic literature
.
Hello, Hannah! You made me choke on my Pepsi. Erotic literature! It could be on the lining and also over the loudspeaker. Haha!!!
I think my hat will also be a shapeshifter, depending on my mood.
Thanks so much:)
I’m with Hannah!
Love this poem to pieces and beyond, and this hat, it speaks of not books, but libraries, cities of libraries of a life well lived.
PS: Would you ever consider sharing or loaning the hat?
*******************************************************
.
Sure thing, Terresa. You can borrow my hat any ole time:) But I do think your hat would be beautiful, like you. Thanks so much, sis! -Julie
Pretty cool hat, lots of energy in it. I really like your hat. I think your hat can be slightly altered depending how you are feeling just before you wear it each time. At least that is how I think you are, and I am that way too. I could have my basic shimmy hat with a chipmunk with a mini bottle of water misting my face and an audio book on speakers. Then depending on where I am emotionally that day I would add the necessary artillery to get me through the day.
*******************************************************
Hi, Technobabe. I LOVE the chipmunk! Haha! I agree with you…the hat changes on a daily basis, doesn’t it? Thank you! -Julie
Off the top of my head see
here comes my hat.
Remember I am not obese
but really just kinda fat.
Not to be overly crude or rude
my hat is as big as my ass
because I intend to pass
down Main Street in the nude.
Though in pictures you
cant’s see the front but it’s true
above the face white and pasty
is the big black whale in embroidery
It is the inspiration for Melville’s white whale tale
printed for sale. Moby Dick the story he told
but truth be told it was a true black whale tale
which is a better tale than the tale he sold.
My neighbors think of course I am taking them to task
with a racist statement which I am not
But answer s come if they have the nerve to ask
’til then, well let them figure out what I am or am not
I have a Reagan button with a chimp on the side
most don’t know and can’t figure out why
because that monkey started this nation on this ride.
Before the chimp was elected he already made CA cry.
So the dirty filthy thing taking a trip
upon my head is a tribute
to a black whale that killed a ship
and a subtle joke of a prick who needs rebuke
And now that it’s all said
that is the hat
I wear on my head
it’s a hat and that’s that.
Best I could do on the spur of the moment Julie.
The Black whale sunk the Whaling ship Essex in 1783 or there about. The crew took to the sea in whale ships and were found months later and some did do the old eat the dead thing to survive. Melville about 20 years later heard the story when he was working whalers and wrote MOby Dick.
****************************************************
Hey, Mark! Awwwwwwwwwesome! I love your hat. I always root for the whale.
On a side note, I need to figure out how to reply to comments, so I’m not in here sticking my big mouth in the middle of your great comments. Thanks, Mark! -Julie
ok, Julie, I had my fun
and now to praise you
for another job well done.
you change your style
like I change my socks,
once in a while,
and still you stay on top.
excellent work.
you are a shapeshifter.
****************************************************
Hey, Jack! You rock. I was just teasing you about the fur. Your hat is cool. “Once in a while” is a great line. Last night, I was choking on Pepsi. Now you’re making me laugh and choke on my coffee. Thanks so much. -Julie
I love this poem. But you know what really ticks me off? I love every line, but I couldn’t have written them. They ain’t mine, they’re yours. And I support your right to write them and wear that crazy hat down main street. I’ll follow you in my way-too-sober-and-properly-quiet hat, picking up your confetti and sequins, pasting them on my face, and trying to get a little attention following you in the parade. Hahaha.
And I sure as hell will never wear one of those red hats.
*****************************************************
Hi, Ruth! Pasting confetti and sequins on your face…haha! I love that. A quiet and sober hat is great. Big cheers to individuality!
I love my quiet and sober friends. One in particular springs to mind. She has the best sense of humor, but it’s very wry. Her jokes are usually double takes. She’ll say something (in a very somber voice), and then a minute later, the joke hits me. I nearly fall down laughing, and she doesn’t change expressions. I love it.
I just took a quick peek at your site, and I will return. Thanks for the visit and good words! -Julie
This is priceless, and made me laugh out loud with the delight of it all! I think I’ll write a poem about my hat and post it. I’ll send you a link. My muse can’t wait to get into this one!
Hugs, jorc
Hi, Jorc! That’s great! I look forward to seeing your poem.
A friend just told me she was using the idea with her elementary kids for language arts. Of course, she can’t show them my poem…haha! But she’s going to write one of her own to read to the kids. I’d love to see the poems that come out of it.
Yes, please let me know what you do, Jorc. I’d love to read about your hat. Thank you!
julie gal, i want to wear yr hat. i love it. made me laugh out loud. yr words are joy. mine is boring. musty. smells like moth balls & arthritis cream. it has cobwebs. spiders. a hole. crumpled. stains.
i hit submit & didnt mean to. wanted to tell you how much i adore this poem. love the crows. i love how even yr just fer fun poems are poetic gems. lines and beats hum. technique & soul. yes. im reading this to my group this week. i wish u could be the one to read it to them bt i know we are far away. maybe someday u can come read to us?
Hey, Dan! When crazy life levels off a bit, and I have the time and money to travel, I would love to read for your group. I would be honored. That’s no BS. It may be a while, but I will be more than happy to do it.
Thank you so much.
NOW. Take a look at your first comment. There is a poem there. It is awesome, beautiful and powerful. Like you.
Please write it! I want to read it. Okay?
I had to pawn my hat
to pay the rent.
I figured I didn’t need it
anyway.
then
I stepped into a
downpour
of hot sunlight.
now
I’m looking
for some shade.
Hey, Christopher! Beautiful! I love it. Thanks so much for taking the time to put it here.
It made me sort of misty, too. In a good way. I love it when a poem speaks to me and sings where I’m coming from. I know about those pawn shops and rent, so I can relate. Beautiful music. Powerful words. Thank you!
Hello, Cowgirl in the sand.
Is this place at your command?
Are you old enough to change your name?
It’s the woman in you
that makes you
want to play this game.
(Hello. I’m your fan 2. Love the poem).
Neil Young Fan 2…
WOO HOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Yeah! You got it, honey! I was wondering if somebody would notice that little wink…haha! Neil Young was before my time, but good music knows no boundaries, does it?
I remember being at a party, and people were blasting crappy crap crap crap Madonna CRAP. I felt like I was going to throw up. I had to leave. I ended up sitting by myself in the woods with Neil Young as loud as I could get him to play on the old tape player. Haha! I was a weird kid.
I prefer the electric version. The acoustic one is fine, but the electric version…dang awesome!
Thanks so much. You made me grin.
I mean older Neil Young songs were before my time. He kept Rockin’ the Free World (and still does). I respect him for trying different forms, even though some fans got huffy about it. Though my favorites are the songs from before my “time.” I’ll shut up now. Haha!
awesome, awesome, awesome.
“shedding sequins
and flames
on their little
same streets.” -
you do that every time you post a poem.
i want to be at that parade in an old beat up hat with a white flag hanging off the brim. and when people ask i’ll explain it’s because your hat just kicked my hat’s ass.
Hey, Joaquin. My hat wouldn’t even DREAM of trying to kick your hat’s ass. My hat loves your hat (plus, my hat is a big wuss). Haha! Thanks so much!
Hi, Julie. If that was you leaving that very lovely comment at my blog a few minutes ago (thank you, I’ll respond there soon), since you want to know more about my tattoo parlor visit, I want to give you a link to my blog post about my experience, which is photojournalistic in nature, but with personal connection mixed in too:
http://ruthie822.blogspot.com/2010/08/tattoos-like-manna.html
*****************************************************
Hello, Ruth. That sounds great. I’d love to see the pictures. I’ll hop over this evening when things get quiet. Thanks so much for letting me know! -Julie
[...] at The Buffaloe Pen has written a wonderful whimsical piece about her hat. Her work has inspired me to write a little [...]
Hi Julie,
I wrote this just for fun. Thank you for the inspiration!!
http://emptygarden.wordpress.com/2010/09/23/hats/
Hi, Jorc. Alright! I’m so happy you wrote your own hat poem! I’m doing my evening run-around right now, but I’ll come see what you’ve done tonight when the house is quiet and there are no interruptions. Thanks for letting me know. It tickles me that you’re doing your own:)
Hi, Julie. To see what my hat looks like click here. Of course that is my hat now. As for when I get old enough to merit something akin to the red hat you have versified here, I’ll have to think a good bit and see if I can come up with anything as playful, lively and imaginative as the strut-your-stuff-go-to-hell hat you flaunt here.
*****************************************************
Hi, Lorenzo! Thank you! I’m dashing in and dashing out for the weekend, but as soon as I get back home, I’ll hop right over and enjoy what you’ve done. I always hate to say that I’m rushing, but it’s the truth, so I may as well fess up
That’s my long-winded way of saying I will be there! I look forward to reading soon. Thanks so much. -Julie
It’s Friday night. I just got back from Hops ‘N Barley’s where I ate enough to kill a mule. I am almost comatose from THAT – and from a long hard work week. I’m sitting here in front of my computer, getting sleepy, drinking a Corona Extra with a lime wedge shoved down the neck………and then……. all HELL breaks loose right here before my eyes!!! Just too much fun!
“…in the biggest
most bodacious
funkalicious
Super Freak hat
imaginable.”
Lord, Child! You are something else!
Hey, Kaye! Thank you! You just made me laugh out loud! I like the sound of Hops ‘N Barley’s. I wish I could have been there with you…haha! But the second best thing is visiting you on the web. Will be there soon (see my rambling response above). Take care & have a beautiful weekend!
I wantn a hat like yours xk
Hello, Katherine! Thanks so much. It’s great to meet you. I’ll return soon to say hello.
Hi Julie,
Mostly saying hello. I love your poem, and your hat! I get all these images in my mind of you going into town, wearing it (I think I’m mixing it up with a children’s book I’m thinking of- I can see the illustrations, but I can’t quite place the book). I can’t decide about my hat. I think maybe, my statement will just be to let my scrawny hair grow long and flaunt it, and spin in the sunlight, whether it’s raining or shining. Let them call me crazy! Or, maybe just a floppy hat, fabric frayed, and out of style, as I walk in the woods.
****************************************************
Hi, Annie! Have mercy…I’m so sorry to be so slow to get you up here! Just getting home and settled in. I love the idea of a hat that’s out of style, frayed and floppy. I think my hat will always be out of style, too. Thank you! -Julie
My hat’ll have a mini-turret directing my way. It’ll be able to break through all those obstacles in life that’ve been holding me back. My hat’ll swivel upon my head. It’ll shoot first and everyone will ask questions later. I’ll have it to blame. I’ll have no regrets. I’ll explain, “The hat must be defective,” and I’ll wear it to my grave.
*****************************************************
That’s great, JR! I love the idea of blaming everything on your hat. Haha! -Julie
I don’t know how I missed this one! I can see you in that go to hell hat! Yes, I’m a GRIT, so I very well know what a go to hell hat looks like! I can see you dripping sequins!
I think you’re already
a statue of liberty,
a cowgirl in the sand,
a one-woman band,
.
a kiss my ass
celebration
of all that is holy…
If you’re going to be you and more so when you’ve earned the right to that hat, I want to be watching the parade!
Love it, Jules!
Oops. Left the S off that GRIT – guess I’d have to say I’m one of the GRITS, huh?
Hey, Karen! Haha! I only recently heard that one. I’m a GRITS, too. That’s for sure!
For some reason, we used to call people from town Grits. I have no idea why. It wasn’t an acronym. We loved grits, too. So it doesn’t make any sense, but I guess it wasn’t supposed to. They called us lots of stuff…haha!
Thanks so much, Karen. Please excuse my slowness. I haven’t been at home, but I’m coming around to say hello to everybody now.
Should we let the other in?
GRITS = girls raised (not reared, mind you!) in the South (capitalized, of course) he, he! That’s us – GRITS!
Here, the kids call the country kids “grits” as an insult. Huh.
Yes, ma’am, that is us alright! I reckon we can let them know. Haha! I didn’t even think to explain it. Thanks, Karen!
Oh…your comment made me think of something else. The townie kids who used to make fun of me? They’re all into “country” music now. Haha! Not that they’d know what real country music is. I just think it’s funny to see them walking around in cowboy hats. Those posers! Haha!
Thanks again, Karen:)
Julie
I don’t ever wear hats but I think often of the hats I will wear when I’m “of the age.” They will be large, most will be floppy, many will be orange or yellow or both, some will have ear flaps. I will drink tequila-tinis and raise turtles while wearing said hats.
That sounds like my kind of hat, Brig. Thank you