I came to the UK without my hat, and on my first trip back to Texas, I made sure to grab it. Several of my friends, noticing that I didn't take it with me the first time, actually said to me, 'Come on, mang, I mean, that's yer dang hat yer leavin' behind there buddy...' I thought, nah, who needs a hat like that in England?
Turns out, here in the West Country of England, my 'wrangler' hat (as Texans referred to it, always pointing out that's not a proper cowboy hat, but a 'wrangler' hat; a villianous accoutrement) is often an essential item, being that when I'm out I'm either on foot or on my bike. There is a need here in Bristol to wear a virtual parasol on one's head many days out of the year, winter and summer.
I wear it, I love it, and the only people who bother to point it out are either Americans (to whom I will always point out that I am a proud Brit-Texan) or really goofy Britons dressed head to toe in Chav Gear.
I've spent a good many years in Texas. I've rode horses, roped a calf, played in the rodeo as a boy and spoken Spanish in Mexico (where I wore the same hat everywhere I went). In addition, I have been shot at and had guns brandished at me on several occasions. I belong to the same fraternity as Sam Houston, Mirabeau Lamar and Anson Jones, and this same fraternity looks after the San Jacinto Battlefield.
And even without this pedigree, the simple fact remains: you wanna keep the sun outta your eyes and you want your neck to be the same color as the rest of you, there's nothing better. Someday the world will catch on...!
PS: You might be pleased to know that I am doing my damndest to introduce that pearl of Dixie culture, the lovely contraction "y'all," to all the English-speaking nations of the world!
