See the Ricardos and the Mertzs in Lucy and Ricky’s jaunty Pontiac convertible (one of TV’s first major product placement adds within a prime time series, thank you very much!!!) as they head west. They are California bound.
Ricky has signed with MGM to appear in the studio’s Cinemascopic/Stereophonic production of “Don Juan”….which by the way, was never released. At least, its release was never mentioned again. In fact, the whole movie was never referenced again…not in subsequent episodes.
Anyway, Ricky came back to New York and The Tropicana (formerly, “Club Babalu) as a conga drum playing band leader….not as a handsome, Hollywood Latin leading man he wanted to be. And I should mention that as far as “I Love Lucy” shows go, I think the episodes that took place in Hollywood were the best; far better than the foursome’s escapades in Europe.
Now, unless you’re a gay man of comparable age, with as much TV watching experience as I have, DO NOT even begin to argue this point with me. You will loose.
Besides, this isn’t a post about the irascible red head and her compadres in crime. Rather, a particular “I Love Lucy” episode was the inspiration for this post.
As fashion forwarding thinking women of certain means often did back in the 50’s, Lucy and Ethyl always wanted new hats. Hats were the rage back then. Even Ricky and Fred never ventured out of the safe confines of their apartment house at 623 East 68th Street and into the wilderness oft Wagnerian-governed Manhattan without their Fedoras.
Lucy and Ethyl had many hats, but there was always room for more. Every new outfit required a new hat to complete the ensemble. A causal look required a casual hat. A formal suit required a more formal chapeau.
And that got me thinking about the many metaphorical hats we wear today. In this day and age of emotional multi-tasking and calling on facets of our personalities to come forward for survival assistance, no one hat is one-size fits all. For example: the “mommy hat” my sister might wear, won’t fit another woman and so on.
As for me personally? I wear A LOT of hats, too. I even make my own when I have to and believe me, I’ve had to. I’m a veritable haberdasher.
As a blogger, I wear this hat:
The classic pith helmet. I where this while exploring the deepest, darkest recesses of my lush imagination.
As problem solver, I wear a fire fighter’s helmet.
I tend to be the one responsible to extinguish most of the fires caused by others….and those I start myself, of course. At certain times in my life, Ive had a tendency to play with matches—matches that were unfamiliar to me. I only learned of their evil, evil strength when everything around me burned to the ground.
On this same note, I wear this hat when when I get burned–and I always get burned. This hat also comes in handy when the people I love get singed in the process.
And invariably, someone always gets singed, too.
This is what I wear when I’m feeling sad, depressed and vulnerable:
Helmets are good when you want to protect your head. Helmets also help keep some emotion in. Either way you’re protected, right?
Ah, sweet, sweet semi-imperviousness!
This is the hat I wear when I play the daughter of a very judgmental and domineering mother.
I wear it for her benefit—at pivotal occasions, usually around Christmas and her birthday. It makes her “feel” better to see my personage” topped off” this way. Why? I don’t know—I’ve never claimed to come from emotionally healthy stock. But I assure you, I know better.
THIS is the hat I actually wear most of the time…especially around my mother.
It has stealth capability whenever my mother is in the same room. She can’t see it. Actually, she refuses to see it.
But that’s OK. There are none so blind…..
I sincerely hope my mother can change her perception of me someday soon. I really don’t think a seeing eye dog would be much company or contribute much to the conversation when she’s 85 and alone.
As the girlfriend of a brilliant man, I have to wear this hat most of the time:
Sometimes when I have to make sense of my life and I’m forced to create virtual magic in order to make things happen, this hat finds it’s way out of the collection.
Abracadabra!!! Magic heals all wounds.
Actually, it never does.
In my last radio job, I was management. Horrible, nasty management. I fired 15 people in 21 months. Once in June of 2006, I fired five people in one day.
I’ve done easier things in my life.
Each time, I had no choice but to wear the Executioner’s Mask.
Killing hopes and dreams and career aspirations was just as bloody had I used a sword.
When I’m feeling childlike and innocent, I pull this one out of the moth balls. This hat smells old and mildewed. It’s faded, fragile and tattered due to age, but amazingly, it still fits!!!!!
Whimsy not only fits everybody, it also looks good on everybody.
And sometimes….SOMETIMES, when all the planets are properly aligned, when the Cosmos decides to toss me a bone and all seems right with the world, I wear this—the grandmother of all female head wear!!!
I’m a strong, smart woman–independent. I’ll admit it–I know I am. But even so, I’m still a woman and every one of the fellow Fallopians I know, wants to feel wanted and needed and cute and pretty from time to time. Every once in a while, we need to feel desirable, safe and protected against our enemies, both foreign and domestic.!
And when the crown comes off, it does so to make room for this hat!!!
I admit, I do wear this one sometimes. You know, just for balance!
Lastly, it’s perfectly OK to laugh at this post. If you don’t, the terrorists win.