Last year, Pat bonded with a hat. Like, seriously bonded. With a hat.
He would just like to say it before you do: "Holy hell."
But in his defense, it was a GREAT hat. Maybe it still is. He thinks not, but he isn't entirely sure. Most of it's value now has to do with it's emotional connection to the John Wayne trip, he thinks. A relic, and a fabulous one at that. But with expired functional value. He thinks. Mainly because it went through a stint in hell which inflicted much torture upon it and which culminated in a certain episode involving the fending off of bees, which rendered it, umm, . . . kind of, uhh . . . limp. (It's hard to tell from the photo, but trust him.)
It was this brand, which he didn't know anything about, but came to trust, due to the protection and comfort it gradually manifested.
New, stiffer, hats have recently caught Pat's eye. A fool and his money are eventually parted and as of tonight then, a second hat is on the rack.
Meet the new boss, same as the old boss . . .
It's hard (pun unintended) to tell if Pat is somehow compensating for personal deficiencies. Or maybe the new hat is an emotional security blanket - some kind of perceived insurance that the upcoming trip will be as good as the last. Or maybe, just maybe, his judgement is intact and it's truly necessary that he equip himself with a hat that is 100% functional. And quite stiff. Only time will tell.