I spent a good bit of time downtown this weekend at the Arkansas Literary Festival. Held in the middle of the River Market district, there's always a lot to see and do, even on windy Saturdays with the threat of rain. I never saw a rain drop while I was down there. In addition to the common collection of artistic types, identifiable by their very cool and sometimes colorful hairstyles, judicious use of tye dye, and overheard snatches of conversation, I did see rampaging bands of teenagers. They were as well behaved as bands of teenagers ever are and were wearing matching shirts so I hope they were up to something good. And legal.
I also saw many hats. I am a fan of the hat and would help bring them back if I were cool enough to do something before everyone else does it. I'm not. But there were many hats. Men wearing hats. Men wearing hats like this. I couldn't believe it either. And after I had to go to two hands to count how many I saw down there, I lost count. Sure, 10 hats in a group that size probably doesn't sound like much, but I can't really remember seeing one before, particularly one under the age of 45 and these were young men. Very well dressed. And wearing hats.
I didn't see hats on the ladies. I did see many ladies who looked more like this, hair and artistic shawls, both of which I appreciate but do not own.
I felt improperly dressed in my jeans, pink sweater, pink Nikes and ponytail. I'm going to have to up my literary quotient next year so that I fit in better. Maybe I should get a hat. I think they might be coming back.
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