Jazzed!

Some people need justification for dressing up.  Or at least what they call "dressing up". They need a wedding, a function, a launching of their yacht......what about everyday, in and out, up and down, life?  In New York City, we start off with the newsblast of the morning, jump into our skins, and blast off.  My skin includes a hat. Brian, my hairdresser, would kill me if the color faded one second sooner than he calculated.  Besides, I feel nekkid without a hat.......unfinished, incomplete, and I admit it, insecure.

Missing something, like.

So, this weekend, on Governor's Island, there will be a whole lot of people swinging and stomping to the sounds of 1920's jazz, hopefully all wearing hats.  I shall report, and take stock, as to who does,and who doesn't, btw.  Whether the aficionados turn out in their fancy flapper gear, or weekend r-e-l-a-x clothing, a hat works, no matter what.  As a part of the festive mood, much the same as donning a foam finger at a football game, a hat at a gig means business. When you go to a wedding, special guest, or member of the fam, a hat demonstrates joy, inclusion, celebration.  

Take that image one step further, and think of every day as a possible hat-wearing venue.

Why do I go on endlessly with this prattle, you may ask yourself, gentle folk?  It's a mission, I admit, but a kind and purposeful one: hats don't bite.  They may bring a twinkle to the eye, music to the soul, joy to the heart, but they don't bite.

If you come out to Governor's Island this weekend, stay and play, listen to the Michael Arenella Orchestra, but by all means,wear a hat...get jazzed!