A Hat for Pops

I am glad to have grown up in an era when men wore hats. I mean real hats like fedoras and pork pies. I'm glad hats are back. Let's be clear though, I have no delusions of looking like Don Draper or Dick Tracy. But it would be cool for the Grand-girls to remember Pops' hat. You know the way you remember special, random stuff about your grandfather(s).

I remember my paternal granddad sporting a fedora, dressed in a nice suit, driving a big long Pontiac. My mom's dad wore these great little wireframe glasses that hooked behind his ears. The lenses were always pocked because he would forget to put on his goggles before firing up a cutting torch.

About this hat business--there's some great reading about hats on one of my favorite blogs:  "The Art of Manliness." It's an excellent blog, made even more appealing by the fact that it's published by a young couple in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Here's an excerpt from a post about hats:

"Up until the 1950s, men were rarely seen out and about without a hat sitting upon their head. Since that time, the wearing of hats has seen a precipitous decline. No one is precisely sure why. Some say the downfall of hats occurred when JFK did not wear a hat to his inauguration, thus forever branding them as uncool. This is an urban myth, however, as Kennedy did indeed don a hat that day. Another theory posits that the shrinking size of cars made wearing a hat while driving prohibitively difficult. Most likely, the demise of hats can simply be traced to changing styles and the ongoing trend towards a more casual look."

But hats are back.

I started my search for the perfect hat with a good on-line search. Then I visited hat stores in New York City and Austin, Texas. But Eureka! It turns out that one of the best haberdasheries anywhere is in Tulsa. It is in the historic Greenwood district, literally behind left field of OneOK Field, home of the Tulsa Drillers baseball team.

Let me tell you, if you want a proper hat selection experience you need a pro and Lemmel Fields of The Brothers Hat Shop is a pro. I highly recommend that you go visit Lemmel and let him work his magic. Make sure when you visit you plan to spend some time. Not only is Lemmel a hat expert, he's a great guy to know. Turns out he dated a high school classmate of my Amazing-Missus at Bixby High School. Check out this article about Lemmel.

Lemmel Fields of The Brothers Hat Shop in Tulsa, Oklahoma

A few days ago, I modeled my new Stetson "Dexter" for the Grand-girls. Harper, the two-year old, said, "No Pops!" She then led me to the rack in our utility room where my favorite baseball caps hang. She held up her arms, which is the universal sign for "pick me up." She then took her favorite cap from the rack, put it on my head, and proclaimed, "There!" 

I guess that's how she pictures her Pops.

Pops and Lemmel looking for the right hat.

Being POPS: Lessons Learned

In my last post, "Airstream Funding: Creative Idea #1", I appropriately gave credit to one Abraham Simpson for the tontine idea. Well it turns out that Abe Simpson is a "Pops" himself--to grandkids: Bart, Lisa, and Maggie.

Abe participated in a tontine with Homer's boss, Mr. Burns. You can check it out: The Simpsons, Season 7, Episode 22. "Raging Abe Simpson and His Grumbling Grandson in 'The Curse of the Flying Hellfish'"

I came across the Abe/tontine story while doing some research on famous (or maybe infamous) grandfathers. Let's hope this is not an example of art imitating life, or worse yet: life imitating TV, but Abe does offer some fascinating insights into the world of grandfatherhood. 

Abe Simpson

Here are a few lessons I've learned about being Pops. I've used some of Abe Simpsons lines from the show to help make my points:

Lesson #1: Grandfathers get to add colorful details to make themselves seem more heroic, prolific and vital.

"Dang right. Fact is, I invented kissing. It was during World War I and they were looking for a new way to spread germs..." --Abe Simpson.

Lesson #2: Grandfathers get to be an expert on stuff like healthcare because they lived back when we knew how to do our own healthcare.

Grampa (to Bart): "Good news boy, I found a pharmacy that carries leeches. Well, it wasn't exactly a pharmacy, more of a bait shop."

Bart: "Look Grampa, I'm fine. I really don't need anymore home remedies."

Grampa: "Oral thermometer my eye! Think warm thoughts boy cause this is mighty cold."

Lesson #3: Grandfathers get to tell fascinating, imaginative "stories". By the way, my grand girls love to hear me tell wonderfully creative stories.

"We can't bust heads like we used to, but we have our ways. One trick is to tell them stories that don't go anywhere. Like the time I took the fairy to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for my shoe so I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on them. Give me five bees for a quarter you'd say. Now where were we, oh yeah. The important thing was that I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn't have white onions because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones..." --Abe Simpson

Lesson #4: Grandfathers get to embellish for effect.

Grampa: "I got separated from my platoon after we parachuted into Duseldorf so I rode out the rest of the war posing as a German cabaret singer.[singing] Won't you come home Frantbrelda, won't you come home."

Bart: "Is that story true Grampa?"

Grampa: "Most of it. I did wear a dress for a period in the 40s. Oh, they had designers then."

Lesson #5: Grandfathers get to trust their heroes whether they are heroic or not; real or not.

Grampa: "I say we call Matlock. He'll find the culprit. It's probably that evil Gavin MacLeod or George 'Goober' Lindsay."

Bart: "Grampa, Matlock's not real."

Grampa: "Neither are my teeth, but I can still eat corn on the cob if someone cuts it off and mushes it into a fine paste. Now that's good eatin!"

Thanks for the wisdom Abe, and for the fund-raising idea.

Airstream Funding: Creative Idea #1

If you read my last post, you know I've decided the only way to make the Airstream® dream a reality is to get creative with financing it. So here's the first idea. I should give credit where credit is due. The inspiration for this idea came from Abraham Simpson.

Create a tontine.

A tontine is an investment plan for raising capital, devised in the 17th century and relatively widespread in the 18th and 19th. It combines features of a group annuity and a lottery. Each subscriber pays an agreed sum into the fund, and thereafter receives an annuity. As members die, their shares devolve to the other participants, and so the value of each annuity increases. On the death of the last member, the scheme is wound up. In a variant, which has provided the plot device for most fictional versions, on the death of the penultimate member the capital passes to the last survivor. --from Wikipedia.

Here's how my tontine idea might work: I find 50 or so people looking for an investment opportunity. Each "investor" puts in $1,000 and they own one of fifty shares. I "lease" the Airstream from the tontine for $200 a month. 

          $200 / 50(investors)=$4 x 12(months)=$48. A 4.80% annual yield.

But who wants to make an investment that takes 20 plus years to break even? That's where the lottery fun comes in. Upon the death of each member of the tontine, their share divides among the remaining members.

So following the death of the first ten members:

          $200 / 40(investors)=$5 x 12(months)=$60. A 6.00% APY.

When half the members are gone the annual yield becomes 8.00%. And so on. Basically we go to a funeral then recalculate our earnings.

Upon my death, assuming I'm not the last to die, the Airstream is sold. The proceeds are invested in an interest-bearing account agreed upon by the remaining members. Members continue to take their annual piece of the earnings pie at the end of each year. Obviously the pieces of the earnings pie get bigger with each and every death.

Upon the death of the last remaining member, the balance in the account will be given to a previously-agreed-upon charity like Compassion International. Why would the proceeds not go to the last remaining member or his designee? Well, historically, tontines are known to result in a few coincidental, untimely deaths--perhaps people vying for that coveted last-to-die position?

One of the huge upsides of the plan is all the old pharts in the group will want to take better care of themselves since their return improves as they survive the deaths of other members. 

Obvious question: Isn't a travel trailer a lousy investment.

Not so obvious answer: If we're talking SOBs (Some Other Brand); yes, that would be true. But we're talking Airstream. They hold their value extremely well and in fact, once they reach "vintage" status at 20 years old, they actually begin to increase in value. Of course all that only matters if I'm not the last to die.

Let me know if you're interested. You have to be my age or older to play. ;-)

Creativity As Capital

What does it always come down to? Money! Or does it? Mostly yes, but it doesn't have to. If only I could get that message to the elected who are constipating our nation. (Oops, I almost slipped into political commentary there.) And here at About POPS we leave that exercise in futility to other forums.

Yesterday, we (I) returned from our favorite Ford dealership forlorn. It's not the fault of our favorite father/son sales team or Alan Mullally. They did all they could. But the reality is that the "TV" we need exceeds our budget. (I didn't know until recently that "TV" in RV parlance means "Tow Vehicle".

You see in my dream-scheme to have an Airstream® I was thinking only about which Airstream would be best for the vision I had. A few times during the search, I've said out loud, "This is the one; and look, it's a great deal!" Several times we've actually gone to walk through, kick the tires, and picture ourselves sitting next to a cold, clear stream, with rainbow trout jumping and the grandgirls frolicking nearby.

My Amazing-Missus reins me back to reality. "Aren't you getting the cart before the horse?" she says. "More accurately, why are you shopping for a cart when you don't even have a horse to pull it?"

That reality is why we were at the Ford dealership. Now, to my friends who sell and/or are loyal to other brands, let me explain that the decision to look at Fords was based on extensive Googling about the best TV to have. Consensus is that the Ford F-150 with an Eco-Boost V6, trailer-towing package and a 3.55:1 axle is the way to go. Turns out that even though we're in the "final days" of something called "The Ford Built Tough Sales Event," I would still have to finance the thing beyond my life-expectancy to be able to afford the payments.

If I knew for sure that those radio evangelists you pick up in the small numbers of your AM dial were right about their take on the "Final Days", I would tell our sales-guys, "We'll take a His and Hers pair." I'll pull, she can push.

To be honest, I found the budget hill so formidable that I actually told my Amazing-Missus I was dropping this dream along with the one about seeing the Beatles play live, and the one about hanging out in a English pub with The Inklings, and the one about living in a Chicago loft overlooking Lake Michigan...

Our Amazing Daughter-in-Law called while we were Ford F-150 shopping, so she knew what we were up to. Later she texted to see how the search went. I explained to her that it looked like the dream was being dashed against the rocks of that beautiful shoreline, I had dreamt of camping beside some day.

Apparently she shared with our oldest grandgirl, Karlee, that our budget was short. Karlee told her, "I will give Pops all the money in my piggy-bank if he will only take me to Walt Disney World in the Airstream."

Exchanging my dream for one less-expensive is one thing. But when my grandgirl has the vision too, how can I give up now?!

So to my premise that money is not always the problem; lack of creativity is, I'm going to have to get creative big time. It's going to take all my creativity and the contents of Karlee's piggy bank to make this dream reality.

Walt Disney World: here we come!

Stay tuned to hear the results of the creative brainstorming. And by all means, if you have any ideas, bring them on.