Caps



The Farley men are people of routine. That might be an understatement (though some of us are worse than others). My father needed his morning paper so badly that, if the Tri-City Herald was not on his front porch when he opened his his front door, he would often resort to driving around the neighborhood looking for the paper-carrier. I, too, have a system upon waking up…turning off the porch light, opening the blinds, feeding our dog, and reading the Seattle Times online.

But here is one my strangest rituals…a thirteen year tradition going strong…buying one baseball hat per calendar year. Every August, following a short-term mission trip and summer vacation to Cannon Beach, I order a new Dodgers hat. The only rules are that the cap has to be different than last year’s model and that it has to be from the Dodgers franchise (though I have been tempted a time or two to look at some Dodgers’ minor league clubs a time or two). The hat is almost always an easy-fitted make from Lids. This simple purchase, and the hunt that goes in to selecting just the right edition, is one of the highlights of my summer. It is one way that I know that the Fall is right around the corner – a new beginning. The old one becomes a work hat for a year (and the old work hat goes into the trash). I suppose that, IF the Dodgers were to EVER win the World Series again (even making it to the Fall Classic would be refreshing), I would keep that hat as a momento. But that is a discussion for another day.

Strange, I know. But true. What is one of your oddest rituals?

Caps

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