No Longer an Amateur?

Thanks, everyone, for such great feedback on the last post. It amazes me that so many people go through the same thing, and thankfully no worse for the wear. My mind wanders to the oft quoted and debated saying of "I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it."

Checking out the scene upon arrival. So much to do, eat, and see!

So a couple of weekends ago I attended Springfest with my MIL and her mother (henceforth known as "Mema," pronounced "ME-MAW"). This was both easy and worth it (most of the time). We had a great time eating food you shouldn't eat all in one day: cream of crab soup, sweet potato and regular butterfly fries, sloppy joes, funnel cakes, fried veggies, crepes stuffed with whipped cream and strawberries, Fisher's caramel popcorn, and pizza. Yes, that was all consumed in less than 24 hours. Is there such a thing as shameful pride? If so, I think I just had it.

    Clockwise from upper left: butterfly fries, cream of crab soup, sloppy joe, funnel cake

In order to burn all of those evil but necessary calories, we found ourselves dancing with the AARP group to the tunes of a Rod Stewart impersonator (aka "Sir Rod") and a "rock and roll" band (aka "Ricky K. and the Allnighters). Please note, the quotations marks are intentional and critical to describing the aforementioned band.

  

  Clockwise from upper left: Sir Rod surrounded by adoring fans, an awesome little old guy dancing with a tall young lady, Ricky K. with my MIL and a guy with sweet dance moves, and my favorite dancing couple of the day (that guy looked like that all day. I promise).

We also perused endless aisles of crafts, where you can't take photos because crafters are ubiquitously fearful of other crafters cramping their style. But hey, I get it. When you find your niche, it should be yours and yours alone; especially if you can talk the early bird group into paying this month's social security check on it... or guilt their well-intentioned children/grandchildren into purchasing the latest and greatest personalized/hand carved/homemade floor mat/bird house/holistic remedy.

Just a glimpse into one of the craft tents. I'm so sneaky!

At the end of one craft aisle was a cowboy hat salesman. He was everything you'd imagine a cowboy hat salesman to be - unassuming, genuinely nice, kind of handsome, and definitely donning a cowboy hat himself. He even wore a plain Midway, UT sweatshirt (not from there, but clever marketing, I say). This guy knew what he was doing. He placed a tall rack of awesome looking red hats on the outer corner of his booth. We started trying them on, followed by purple ones, and then my MIL places a denim blue suede hat on my head. The heavens open, angels sing, and I feel complete. This hat was made for me. It fits me like my freckles. Up to this point, I've been trying on hats willy-nilly and completely unawares. Glancing at the tiny sticker tag inside, my heart drops, realizing that my freckles are free and this hat is nowhere near that price.

With many reassurances (what can I wear this with? Everything. Can I wear it when I'm forty? If you're still cool.) from both Mema and my MIL (to be sure, cowboy hat salesman watched, but there was something quite laissez-faire about him), and complete financial support from my ever-loving MIL (thanks again!), I now own the hat. THE hat, ladies and gents.

Post-purchase photo-op with the cowboy hat salesman, in his booth, along side my MIL. 

This hat changed my life. People approached me at the fest asking if I was a professional photographer (nope, just an amateur) or professional country line dancer (I country line danced once to "Elmira" for an elementary school production. Does that count?). Needless to say, I was on top of the world.

The next day, while sporting my newfound fashion statement/identity at Home Depot, the checkout guy thought I was on the hit television reality series, Survivor. Sersiouly.

I'm telling you, I can be anything in this. This is just what an amateur in everything needs for a little self esteem booster! I only wish to I could wear it while running or practicing yoga and not look utterly crazy. I could be  an award-winning marathoner! Or maybe a 500+ hour certified yoga teacher! Or a total nut job!

I prefer to simply ignore the latter, myself.

Any way, what would you want to be in you cowboy hat?