The Quest for the Perfect Fit: Why a High Hat Led to a Low-Altitude, Belly-Laughing Revelation

The Mission and the Museum Gift Shop

It all started recently when I, along with 12M and The Cola Man (yes, both future posts, I promise!), headed up north to scope out the H.E.A.R.T.S. Veterans Museum.

(For our new members, we here at the WWS are teaming up with our friends at Veterans & Patriots United to help raise some much-needed funds. They need vehicle repair to support their mission, and we are proud to stand with them. Details on how to help are at the end of this post!)

Anyway, as we were perusing the gift shop—the true heart of any museum, let’s be honest—I spotted it: a sharp, red Marine Corps ball cap. With the 250th birthday coming up, and given it had been too long since I refreshed my headwear with the beloved Eagle, Globe, and Anchor insignia, I treated myself.

It’s a fine hat. A very fine hat. I’ve worn it to a few events, including the first Honor Flight breakfast I attended after getting it, and the compliments flowed—even from a few non-Marines! And on my walks? Civilians stop me to comment on this fine piece of headgear.

The evidence is overwhelming: I have excellent taste in ball caps.

My Wisecrack Warrior Achilles' Heel

Now that I’ve established my discerning eye for military surplus, it’s time for a confession, fellow Wisecrack Warriors.

I am quite sensitive to embarrassment.

Yes, I know, strange for a Wisecrack Warrior. But I’m not talking about being the butt of a joke—I welcome that! I make fun of myself daily. That’s the foundation of our brotherhood! We all have thick skin, and the payoff in compounded laughter, inside jokes, and physical props (don't ask) is priceless.

The embarrassment I fear is about my own failures:

* Forgetting a promise (sadly, happens often if it's not written down).

* Running late (if I’m going to be too late, I just won’t go).

* Looking stupid for something I should have known better for.

(Okay, WWS, you now have your arsenal of fodder for the next few months. You’re welcome.)

The Queso, the Cap, and the Catastrophic Oversight

Which brings us to last night. My commanding officer and I met up with dear friends at our usual spot. The ladies sat at one end, and I was holding court with my buddy at the “boys table.”

The nice thing about the boys table? We’re the designated Queso Guardians. We get all the queso. (The bad thing? We get all the queso.)

Naturally, I was wearing The Hat. Several passers-by thanked me for my service, which is always nice (though I still haven't perfected the response to that one).

I told my buddy the whole saga: how I asked the cashier at H.E.A.R.T.S. which branch sold the most gear (her response: "Do you want what you want to hear, or the truth?"spoiler: the truth was the Marines! Those museum folks are awesome.), and about all the compliments.

Then I confessed my deep, dark secret about the cap:

"Well, there is one thing I just don’t like about this hat though, it sits too damn high on my head!"

My buddy (an honorary Wisecrack Warrior, even if he doesn't know it yet) looked me dead in the eye and delivered the immortal line:

“You know you can adjust it.”

The Revelation: A Velco-Sized Life Lesson

I was a deer in headlights. My brain blue-screened. I took the cap off, looked at the back, and sure as sin, there was a Velcro adjustment strap set to the smallest setting. My face went bright red.

In my younger years, I would have been internally fuming. I would have felt profoundly stupid for missing such an obvious thing over the weeks I’d owned it. I would have laughed it off quickly just to grab the check and flee the scene.

But last night, I didn't.

I grabbed that strap, adjusted it right there, and put it back on (where it settled perfectly, forcing my ears out just slightly).

My friend didn't just smile. He busted out in the most genuine, deep, chest-shaking, belly-achin' laugh I've seen in a long time. It was beautiful. It was contagious.

I started laughing just as hard. We were feeding off each other in a glorious, tear-inducing giggle loop. All because I forgot a fundamental principle of modern headwear.

Being a Wisecrack Warrior has truly taught me that life is too short to be embarrassed by small, silly mistakes. In that moment, watching my friend—who recently had knee surgery—enjoy a good, hearty guffaw, even at my expense, made me feel proud.

Find the Laughter

Folks, life is short. The truth is, all of us are going to overlook the obvious. We’re all going to look stupid sometimes. The real trick is to stop fearing the embarrassment and start collecting the laughter. Because when you share that laughter with a dear friend, it becomes more than a joke—it becomes a bond.

Keep those wisecracks sharp, Warriors!

Action Item: The H.E.A.R.T.S. Veterans Museum and our friends at Veterans & Patriots United are doing incredible work.

The folks at VPU need our support to fix their mission vehicles. If you want to contribute to a great cause, we will serving some Burgers and Dogs to support VPU’s fundraiser on December 13th from 9-5 at the H.E.A.R.T.S Veterans Museum in Huntsville, TX.