When I look at this blog, it’s always a bit surprising to see the picture of Dad wearing a hat. Surprising, since that was not part of his typical wardrobe. I don’t think we have a photo of this anywhere – it’s not a sight you’d think to preserve – but what Dad usually wore on his head were …skillfully folded paper bags.
To fully appreciate how unlikely this looked, you have to realize how well-turned-out Dad always looked. Each morning, literally from the 1940s through the 1990s, he left the house in jacket and tie to make the mile-and-a-half walk to his podiatry office; he had perfect posture, a brisk stride, and shoes that shined so brightly you could almost see your own reflection. (Unpolished shoes were grounds for punishment in our family). Dad took pride in projecting the right professional “image” to his patients…until the outside elements interfered. That’s when Dad’s innate appreciation of anything free-and-functional took over.
A rainy morning? No problem. Instead of taking the car to work, Dad would simply go to our broom closet, take out an old grocery bag, fold it into a facsimile of a helmet, stick it on his head, and proceed as usual. If inclement weather lasted all day, he’d either put on the same “hat” for his trip home (after drying it out on the radiator all day at work) or he’d grab a new bag out of his office closet. Try to picture Ward Cleaver, Jim Anderson from Father Knows Best, or Mad Men’s Don Draper walking in the door wearing a paper bag on his head (“Honey, I’m home!”)…and you’ve got a good idea of the sight Dad presented.
Once, one of my siblings noticed Dad walking home – bag on head – and yelled “Everybody..look!” As we gathered at the window to laugh at this familiar-but-still-outrageous spectacle, Dad spotted us. He actually pointed at the “hat” and started laughing too (to this day, we’re not sure if he realized the absurdity of it or thought we were appreciating his cleverness.)
Now, the obvious question: Why not an umbrella? To Dad, an umbrella was an “artificial” remedy: he’d have to find it, carry it, keep it in a safe place and remember to bring it back, even if it wasn’t raining. He especially hated the fact that an umbrella cost money. A paper bag not only came free with groceries, but it was something he could proudly create a new use for. That, in Dad’s mind, made it twice as free.
My brother Gregory recalls a time when he was about 12 and Dad’s paper rain gear caused him an especially awkward moment. Greg was sitting on our screened porch with his friends, and it was coming close to five o’clock—the hour Dad routinely left the office. That was also the time for our friends to vacate the premises, because Dad’s arrival home marked the start of our dinner preparation routine (that’s a blog for another day). As Greg’s friends started to go, a tremendous clap of thunder roared from the heavens, startling everyone back onto the porch. When the skies let loose, Greg faced a predicament. He couldn’t very well force everybody out until the storm had passed, yet he realized rainfall meant Dad would be strolling home momentarily wearing his unusual head protection. Sure enough: within minutes, there was Dad at the back door… bag on head, wiping raindrops from his nose, oblivious to the sight he presented, yet pleased to have stood up to nature’s wrath one more time. Meanwhile, Greg’s friends stared in astonishment—then quickly left, stifling laughs, despite the rain.
As I say, no pictures have survived – so I recreated a rough idea of what it looked like (I wonder what Dad would do in today’s world of plastic bags?):
Loved the story! I read it to my husband and he chuckled as well. You have a good gift for writing and have chosen the perfect person to write about.
Thank you.
Thank you, Ann! Appreciate your kind comments…Dad was certainly a great role model for us.
My father in law did the same thing!
It’s too bad we never got a picture of them together!!
This seems like something my father would have been capable of doing as well!
LOL – they surely were resourceful, weren’t they? I wonder what OUR kids will say someday about our idiosyncrasies (…mine are getting annoyed at me for forwarding political emails.)
lots of folks in the past made paper hats to keep rain off their heads. not funny or strange at all back in the day. very good idea and eco friendly. he was always thinking of preserving the planet by using natural things as much as possible. that is not funny that he was like that. everyone could have learned a thing or two from him instead of thinking he was “funny”. he wouldn’t like knowing people were remembering him as being so “funny”. he was really extremely smart and clever in many ways. think about it and write about all the good things Dad taught us.
All the good things he taught us? Read the “About Us” section, and you’ll see my purpose is to present a memorable personality who was as inspirational as he was unique. No matter what the challenge, Dad faced it head on—whether it was through his creativity, intelligence, or the instinctive methods he formulated in his early years.
Personally, I think it’s GREAT that Dad had enough inner confidence to stroll around wearing paper bags; he had the courage to be a rugged individualist at a time when many of his peers would take the “popular” course or be stifled by a need to conform. In his later years—a stage when some people do nothing but mope, complain about their ills, or “long for the good old days”, it’s admirable that Dad occupied his alert mind with do-it-yourself projects, such as his fabled “toothbrush squeezers.” He truly marched to his own drummer, never getting caught up in pretentious or shallow values. And he was ALWAYS the first to laugh at himself, as we laughed along with him.
One reader told me our descriptions of Dad bring back “…wonderful memories of a simpler time, and the kind of ingenuity we need today.” Others think Dad demonstrates the kind of resourceful personality who figured out how to weather challenges (rather than saying ‘poor me’,) A lot of baby-boomers laugh at their Depression-era parents eccentricities, but there’s a lesson to be learned, in many cases, about how they coped.
Anyway, that’s my intention. I hope you can appreciate it.
This is a wonderful piece. Thanks for sharing. I love your comment, “That, in Dad’s mind, made it twice as free.” I’m figuring your dad was a frugal man.
My dad, who is 92, will not throw away anything if it has an ounce of functionality left. And, he “makes do” and improvises with whatever he has.
thanks for the info
Just what I was looking for.