Not to interrupt the ghosts haunting this blog, but in the vein of Tom’s tribute to his late coffeepot, I had to note the loss of my own valued posession, my lucky Red Sox hat. Sure, it was slightly pre-faded when I bought it, but years of literally blood, sweat, and tears (mostly sweat) not to mention sunlight had faded its dark blue to purpled tan.
Somehow it survived years of whipping against tables during losses and spinning above heads during wins, but could not make a short flight from Knoxville, TN to Washington, DC. My only hope is that whoever finds it at that Ruby Tuesday’s gives it a proper burial. I can’t bear the thought of the emblem that attempted to cover my large head through the dark years and the glory years laid to waste in a dumpster with the rotting remains of the salad bar.