The Hat

We were in our first year of marriage and lived on the second floor
of a "fixer-upper" duplex apartment. The address was 111b Main Street
in Darby, one city block from the Philadelphia border. In our row lived
a collection of senior citizens. Our next-door neighbor collected
everybody's mail since mailboxes were routinely pilfered. He'd watch
from the kitchen window to see if we had parked our cars and rang our
bell to deliver it. We'd help carry groceries. It was a very positive
communal arrangement. A motorcycle gang hung out at the Roost Tavern
across from the old Fels Naptha factory. We never had any trouble.
There's a benefit to living next to a gang; the police are always on
the lookout. My husband I lived with the new bedroom set and
hand-me-down kitchen table. He spent his first paycheck after we were
married on the bedroom air conditioner. Another check was used for a
microwave oven; the old gas stove was just as hot on the outside as it
was on the inside.

In the first year of marriage a couple has to pass a couple tests. One
of the first was a dilemma over money. My godson was the first
grandchild in the family. The Christening was to be a grand event. As
godmother I wanted to dress the part. I already had a hot new dress but
I was to be a godmother! For an Italian American Catholic, this was a
grand event. Both at the age of twenty-three, we had jobs of small
income. My accountant husband stretched every cent until it squeaked. I
appreciated and supported his thriftiness, but I was going to buy a
hat.

I found the perfect one at a major department store for forty dollars.
Twenty years ago this was a reasonable price. I proudly modeled it for
my husband, the godfather. He looked at the price tag. The artillery of
complaints about my useless, indulgent purchase was an eye-opener. It
was my first exposure to his precision ridicule. He finally realized
that I was angry and upset, and graciously offered a compromise. I
could buy a hat at a more modest price! "Fine." I said. "Thank you for
your permission!" His tongue-lashing was not to be forgotten. He was
going to pay.

The following Saturday morning we returned the hat. We looked through
the selection and decided to visit each of the anchor stores in the
mall. Pricing was the same for all of the department stores. We got in
the car and started visiting discount stores. Not all of these stores
carried hats. The ones we found were childish or just plain ugly. This
process took all day. Wearily he relented. "Let's go back and buy the
hat you wanted." "I wouldn't wear that hat if it was the last hat on
earth!" was my response. We finally found a hat that we both liked at a
discount store. It cost four dollars less.

I wore it proudly on my nephew's Christening day. Women's clothing is
the one subject where he doesn't question the cost of my purchases.