Sunday, August 23, 2009
The Social Risk Of Hats In The Great American West
Heading out of Reno on my way to Elko, dressed in my Elko-appropriate Western attire, I stopped at the truck stop in Fernley for road coffee. In the fast food section, there was a genuine bona fide cowboy. Old, weathered, droopy mustache, the real deal. I noticed he was watching me. I felt pretty good. I was passing. He thought I looked like one of the guys. As I walked past him, he mutterd a word of advice, "hat's back-ards."