Skip to main content

MY BIG, GIANT BALD CHARLIE BROWN HEAD

     A cross I have had to bear since my birth is my  IMMENSE head!  Most men wear a 7 1/2 size hat or something in that neighborhood.  I wear an 8 1/8!  Mine is a big, bowling ball noggin’.   

     Even as a baby my giant cranium stood out.  When my parents took me home from the hospital the nurses after seeing my feet, hands and head thought I was coming in for my 1 year check up.  It has always been dubbed a “Charlie Brown” head.  I have never had much hair and what little I had has had to be spread over my “Jumbo Dome.”  My parents told me because of its size, I had difficulty lifting my head when I was a baby.  They said when I did, I was pulled side to side as I attempted to keep this boulder balanced.

     As a little guy, I followed “Prince Valiant” in the comic strips and my parents got me his outfit for Christmas.  My head was so big, my mother had to split the sides of his helmet so it would fit on my punkin’ head.  Ball caps fit me like a Yarmulke and could never be pulled all the way on.  When I did force them down they would pop off my head with a “ping” when I let go of the bill.


     I was wearing a man sized cowboy hat when I was a kid and it appears this “cro magnon-like” skull has been passed down to some of my heirs.  My oldest son, Zac, has this same impressive skull and my 3 year old grandson, Charlie, is wearing men’s ball caps to cover his head.  We three all experience difficulty getting our heads through pull-over shirts and while little children do not run from us in horror, it is laughably noticeable anytime we try on a cap that says, “One size fits all.”


    When photos appear of me with others, particularly my grandchildren, my head appears to be an oversized balloon, possibly filled with helium and about to float away.  My little ones feel this accounts for my baldness.  “You have as much hair as anyone…your head’s just too big!”


    

     Fortunately, there have been a couple of vendors who have pulled me through over the years.  There is an outfit called, “Big Head Caps”, that designs a ball cap that fits humongous heads.  Their tag is “Hats for the Cranially Endowed”!

     Another is  Manny Gammage's “Texas Hatters”, who made all the hats for the movie “Lonesome Dove.”  When I learned about their abilities with hats, (“If you can imagine it, I can make it”),  I made the pilgrimage  to Buda, Texas and introduced myself.  Manny measured my head, shook his head,  called people out from the back to see it for themselves and remeasured it a couple more times.  He laughed and said, “This will be interesting.”   He made me a hat…and it was a dandy!  He made me several more and today, his daughter Joella and son-in-law David make my hats.  It is always a challenge and sometimes a trial-and-error process.    However, they are professional and have delivered a terrific product over the years.  I need to rein in on buying any more hats.  I can never get the wear out of all of them.  As Mizz Nancy has said, I have more hats than Texas Hatter’s has hats on display at their store.


     However, it is comforting to know with Zac and Charlie walking the earth, I will have someone to leave my hats to when the Lord calls me home.  At least they will not wind up in a museum, like the bones of The Elephant Man, where people would gather, marvel and wonder how such a massive head was possible in this day and age.

Comments

  1. Alas, dear Buck, females can have the same problem. While I pretend to be cranially challenged because of my luxurious, thick mane of hair, that's not really the case at all. I have a damn big bean, too. One size does not fit all in headbands, berets or adorable cloches.

    ReplyDelete
  2. You know, in my family, we say, "Bigger heads; bigger brains."

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

FRED SIMON’S FEEDING AND CARE OF A GOY

I had been in marketing at Simon for around 8 years and was attempting to outdo each grand opening and special event's activity at our malls.  In 1980, Fred Simon changed my life and career path when he brought me into the leasing department.    I joined leasing at the same time as Max Reiswerg, whose parents owned the kosher meat market in Broad Ripple.Max and I shared an office and Fred would yell down the hall, “Get the butcher’s kid and the redneck down here!”Max was a blessing for me and would interpret the Yiddish phrases bandied about and directed at me.I quickly learned enough to determine when I was in trouble or not. I learned the science of leasing shopping centers under the tutelage of Fred, Irv Katz and a crew of really enjoyable individuals.A new factor for me was the accompaniment of food at every available opportunity.All meetings were an occasion to eat and I was quickly indoctrinated into the Fred Simon dining customs, which included frequent visits to Shapiro’s D…

MY CHILDHOOD HERO, DAVID PEDIGO OF SHERMAN, TEXAS

The 1968 class of Sherman High School, Sherman, Texas, held our 50th graduation anniversary get together last month.It was a well organized celebration and we enjoyed a good turnout.
     Since Mizz Nancy and I live in California, I do not get to see my Texas friends as often as I would like.    One role model from my youth was fellow Sherman Bearcat, David Pedigo.  I got to briefly say hello to David and did the quick, “SO-WHAT-ARE-YOU-UP-TO-NOW?” rapid-fire conversation, because other people are waiting to speak to him or me and it just moves too fast.
     I have always wanted to take a longer moment and tell David what an example of Christian kindness he has always been to me.  I met David when I was transferred in the 6th grade to Wakefield Elementary from Bryant Elementary in 1961.   I recall he seemed to wear black cowboy boots and white long sleeve shirts, every day.  I arrived, knowing very few people in my new school and he went out of his way to make me feel welcome.  H…

THE CORNER GROCERS IN SHERMAN, TX

Part of the landscape of Sherman, Texas, in the 50’s and 60’s was the Mom and Pop grocery stores scattered throughout the older neighborhoods. These were located every couple of blocks and were an extension of everyone’s home kitchen.
     If you needed a loaf of bread, a quart of milk  or some other staple, one could walk to the corner store at the last minute and made the purchase.  These local grocers often made wonderful barbecue, tamales, chili or hamburgers.     
     When we lived at 808 N. Willow Street, in half of a duplex shared with the 7 member Aleman family, we had a grocer across the street and another around the corner, arrived by way of our alley.  In my younger days, I would walk across the street to the store with dad and younger brother Bob, often scoring bubble gum at 3 pieces for a penny.
     As I was older, mother sent me across the street for something and told me to charge it.  “What does that mean?”    
“Just tell the person at the counter to put it on our bill.…