The Man in the Funny Hat

Something happened today that I would like to share with you.

There was a long queue at the bank. A man wearing a fedora hat was speaking very kindly and joking with the cashier. Amidst the miserable faces that stood in the orderly queue, he really stood out to me.

He was dressed smartly yet had a very casual style about him. He wore a loosely tailored suit and his fedora hat was tilted slightly to one side. It really struck me that his posture and demeanor was stylised from a 1940’s movie, perhaps something with Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. Reminiscent of those classic film noir movies projected in striking black and white.

Then came the laughter. It was subtle at first. A sort of chuckling, deep in the throat that beckoned the curiosity of everyone in earshot. I felt sure at first that a few of the customers in the queue were slightly annoyed at this. After all, queuing at the bank, being a very serious affair demands a certain sobriety and consideration perhaps. How dare someone express themselves joyfully in the presence of our financial overlords. Yet, the laughter grew in volume and intensity and soon filled the space in a surprisingly infectious way that encouraged some of the other customers… to smile.

A woman was standing in front of me holding the hand of her young daughter and I heard the little girl innocently saying ‘Mummy. Look at that man. The man in the funny hat.’

I was so amused by this that I found myself smiling at him as he walked towards the door. Then, as I caught his eye, I was surprised when he walked over to me and took my hand. Looking sincerely into my eyes he said, "You've got to enjoy your life, young man, and live it like each day is the best day of your life." Then he smiled and briskly walked out.

Then a familiar feeling of monotony, doom and gloom returned to the orderly queue. In the absence of this jolly and high-spirited gentleman it was as though all the happiness had disappeared from the world in an instant. Perhaps, I thought, that everybody was wondering what they were missing in their own miserable lives that could otherwise summon such high spirits.

It was in this very moment that my curious exploring nature seized me and something dormant inside me told me to follow him.

I abruptly took to my heels, undoubtedly leaving puzzled faces near the front of the queue and hurriedly departed the bank, looking up and down the street for any sign of this gentleman. Surely, I thought, a man in a fedora hat can’t be too difficult to spot in the high street. Then there came the voice of my conscience asking me what on earth I was doing, stalking this gentleman. Yes, perhaps you’ve finally lost your tiny mind, came the second thought. But this didn’t deter my curiosity that pushed me onwards, absolutely set on a fool’s mission.

Then I saw the back of him wearing that hat, strolling not fifty meters further up the street and I watched as he turned into the local newsagents. I hurried forward and almost collided with a woman leaving the fruit and veg shop who stopped in her tracks, clutching a large, transparent bag of apples, and frowning disapprovingly.

‘Excuse me!’ she complained haughtily.

‘I’m very sorry,’ I admitted. ‘My fault.’

For some reason she continued to complain bitterly about the close collision and asked me to watch where I was going which was ironic because I was following the man in the hat so very carefully. In fact, my eyes had barely left the door of the shop that he had entered.

I hurried closer and turned the corner into the doorway but just as I glanced around the shop and at the man standing behind the counter, I realised that the gentleman was nowhere in sight.

I wandered back outside and began searching desperately for any sight of him but he was nowhere to be seen.

I was dejected and felt just a little bit foolish.

‘But what is it?' I thought. ‘What is it that’s missing? What is it that perhaps we are all missing, that can summon such high spirits from this gentleman?’ Perhaps this would remain a mystery.

But I didn’t have long to wait to find an answer to this question. Funnily, as if by some incredible twist of fate, I bumped into him again further along the street as he appeared to be walking out from the local bakery. I found myself in haste as I mustered the courage to speak to him.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said. “I just want to say, I couldn't help noticing how jolly and pleasant you were with the cashier at the bank. Good for you. What’s your secret?”

The man watched me closely for a moment as though considering my true motives in asking this question. Then, when he was satisfied in my naivety, he gave a warm smile and I felt sure he was going to share some timeless wisdom.

"How old do you think I am?" he said. "Have a guess."

Now when someone asks you this question there are just a few courses of action you can take in response. You can edge your best guess in attempt to impress them with your authentic estimation and maybe you will even get pretty close. Or you can consider their feelings and mark them kindly down to a decade younger than your actual guess because just maybe you will ‘make their day.’ You might even guess daringly above their biological age to make light of it and entertain yourself as you watch their face drop before laughing out loud like a cliched super-villain.

"Oh, I don't know." I paused. "Sixty-five?"

Again, came the chuckling laughter. The kind of laughter that when you’ve heard it you can never forget. The sort of laughter that well and truly asks you to join in with that person.

Then he stopped and smiled.

"I'm Eighty-eight years old" he said.

I must admit I was really surprised, and I actually did a double take. This man before me resembled a man who was biologically at least twenty-five years younger than the age on his driver’s licence which he willingly shared with a knowing smile.

"And do you know why I'm still here...?” he enquired. There was a curious pause, and I could feel myself leaning in closer in anticipation.

"Laughter,” he declared. “You have to laugh and find joy in every day because the world is serious enough. So, enjoy your life, young man," he said. Then he patted me on the shoulder reassuringly.

He tipped his beautiful fedora hat with another charming smile and then, with that he strolled off. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner of the high street and I was sure I heard him laughing again in the distance.

Then, I stood there for a very long time in reflection and for some reason I have to say that I began to feel very old. Very old indeed.

And now… I bet you do, too.