Tuesday, November 24, 2015

#200. or, I Wear My Own Kinda Cap

  Sometimes, it's nice to take a couple of day just to get away.

  You know, take a little time for your own sanity and leave behind all the things that cause the stress in your life.

  In my case, things like trying to keep up with new equipment, attempting to learn even more technology that's apparently making my life easier, figure out better ways to market my grain, and making decisions about seed purchases that will put into play all of next year.

  So, a week or so back, my lovely wife and I packed a bag, fueled up my truck, and headed 3 hours south for a little get-away.

  To the farm show.

  To look at new equipment, learn about the latest technology that's going to make my life easier, figure out better ways to market my grain, and make decisions about seed purchases that will put into play all of next year.

  Farmers love farm shows just as much as they love pick-up trucks. I know this, because even before we got into the pavilions, we had to do that thing where you circle around the parking lot looking for a spot like it was Costco on the last Saturday before Christmas.

  You know who else loves farm shows? The hutterites do. Technically farmers too, but they were out en mass, both days we attended, and despite living within about a half hours drive of not less than three different Hutterite colonies, I have to admit to not knowing a terrible amount about them. Aside from the rumors I've heard about some wickedly potent potato alcohol they brew, and also from the Corb Lund song, that apparently if you and all of your buddies get your trucks stuck, when the Hutterites come by in their big ol' Hutterite four-by-truck, they won't come anywhere near you.

  Hutterites have a very distinct way of dressing. Not that there's anything wrong with that. In fact, I believe that knowing your first decision of the day, every day, is going to be; I guess I'll wear the black pants, plaid shirt, and black jacket over top, probably frees up a lot of space in your brain for other more pressing issues. If I wasn't burdened with the weight of trying to select and match attire, all groggy brained, first thing in the morning, I would probably make a far more responsible decisions. Like how much Baileys I'm going to add to that first cup of coffee.

  From what I could tell, about the only way that the Hutterites are able to express their individuality, is through their choice of cap.

  I can appreciate that.

  This year, upon the urging of my wife, I only brought one cap to the farm show. Which is not a decision to be taken lightly. I mean, I intended to visit a multitude of different seed companies and tractor dealers. Choosing a hat that you can comfortably wear to any booth and not tip your hand toward any brand loyalty is quite daunting. It's a decision that weighed heavily on me for at least a week before we actually left, and included pie charts, an excel spreadsheet, and a scale model of the entire pavilion grounds made of popsicle sticks on the floor of the spare bedroom.

  Finally, and again with the urging of my wife, my choice was made easier by taking all of the hats I keep in the closet and getting rid of everything I haven't worn in the past year. So that only left around 20 or so, and from there, I narrowed it down to one of my John Deere caps. Because lets face it, even if I do visit the red tractor booth, I'm not going to buy one.

  Having crossed that hurdle, relatively painlessly, my wife is now urging me to bring only one cap with us on tropical winter vacation in the new year. That's one cap for an entire week! This may require some therapy on my part.

   Funny thing I'm noticing, with less hats to choose from, the less time I spend trying to decide what hat I'm going to wear each morning, which is leaving me with enough time for an extra cup of coffee and Baileys.

  ............  and it seems that makes the decision far less stressful as well.


  1. You know, you're just like Obama. Wait, I'll explain. I listened to a program on CBC radio once about how important leaders are always shielded from having to make routine, mundane decisions so that their minds will be fresh and sharp when making the really big decisions they and they alone have to make. So, for example, they don't choose their own clothes. They have staff for that. You don't want Obama to piss away all that brain energy on which tie to choose. So limiting your choice of caps is a good life strategy!!!

    1. Hey Debra!

      Guess I'm on the right track. I just need to put together a staff to care of all my mundane chores, and I'll be leader of the free world in no time. Of course, the decisions he has to make are slightly more weighty than mine?

    2. That's a great idea. I need someone around to make mundane decisions for me.

      Someone whose job it is to make those decisions. You know, so I don't end up in an argument of this sort:

      "Where do you want to eat?"
      "I don't care. Where do YOU want to eat?"
      "Anywhere is fine. You decide."
      Et cetera...

    3. um......are you taking resumes, Katy?

  2. The nuances of farming diplomacy and politics are so much more involved than I ever thought. With only 20 caps does that diminish the number of companies you can work with or do you just wear an equipment hat when talking to seed companies; a seed company hat when talking to fertilizer agencies, etc.?

    1. Hi Toni,

      That's definitely one way to proceed. However, a lot of the trips I make to town are planned to hit multiple targets. The fertilizer company, the tractor store, and maybe a seed guy, to increase my efficiency. When that happens, I need to make far more strategic cap choices. :)

  3. Hmmm. Mayhap I can slip some bailey's in the wife's Dr. Pepper and talk her out of her sock hoard...

    Who makes the red tractors? Tonka? :)

    1. Hey Kait!

      I'm all for the Baileys, but honestly, you can never have too many socks! :)

      We try not to talk about the red tractors on these pages! :)

  4. My grandfather used to have a hat collection that he hung all around his garage/workshop.

    My son always says you can never have too many socks too - but he never is the one who has to match and fold them.