Day 113: Something Has Changed

1. Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Another wet chilly dreary day in New York. Enough with the rain already, as indigenous New Yorkers would exclaim.

Because of the nasty weather, I wanted the warmth of a hat but was not in the mood for leftist lunacy, so wore my blue MAGA hat instead of my red incendiary one. I couldn’t avoid noticing the usual stares and glares today, but I ignored them because at this point in my MAGA adventure I honestly don’t give a flying crap what people think of my hat. This is a free country. I will wear anything that I damned well please, and I will think whatever I damned well please, and I will say whatever I damned well please, and if anyone is “triggered,” then tough shit, as we say in the South.

That said, the defining characteristic of my hat-wearing experiences today—when literally hundreds of people saw my hat—was that I received an unusually large number of compliments and positive responses.

Something has changed.

While walking up Broadway towards Union Square, a homeless man shouted out “I like your hat . . . and your umbrella” (the fabric of my umbrella resembles an American flag). I offered to give him my umbrella, but he graciously declined.

While riding the 4 train to lower Manhattan, I felt someone staring at me. I looked up and saw a teenage schoolboy grinning with delight. We nodded and exchanged beaming, subversive smiles.

A few minutes later while waiting for a ferry to Brooklyn, a guy sitting in the terminal at Pier 11 called out, “Like your hat.” I thanked him and kept walking, but then decided to go back and chat for a minute. We commiserated about the craziness of the world today: the hordes of brainwashed Americans; the lying leftwing media propagandists—but I told him that I’ve been wearing a MAGA hat in New York for 113 days and people’s reactions have been changing; more people seem to be waking up.

Later, on the ferry while waiting to debark, a young woman who saw my hat smiled at me (and it was not a smile of derision; I can tell the difference).

Later that evening, still wearing my MAGA hat, I popped into a Dollar General in a not-so-nice part of town near a bunch of housing projects. I steeled myself for some possible nastiness from the bored clerk (who happened to be black), but she radiated warmth and charm during our transaction, and she wished me a good night.

Something is happening.

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