For a time I worked out at a club.  It was a small place, the kind to shoehorn between a Chinese restaurant and a dry cleaner.  There weren’t many machines. So I usually found myself gravitating to an all-in-one contraption where I could pretend to work major muscle groups, depending on which side of the machine I used.  And that is where I was, sitting on a bench, reaching for a bar high above me when I saw her, a young woman strapping one of her legs to a pulley.  And that’s what I noticed, her legs, specifically, the white athletic socks that stretched to her knees, the kind basketball players used to wear with bold, horizontal stripes. 

The retro look didn’t end there. She wore a tank top and shorts that shimmered.  I doubt my memory would place a headband on her, but you get the idea.  In a sea of form-fitting spandex here was a person going against the tide. 

I don’t think I could have pulled off the ensemble.  I would look like the guy you would look to avoid at a workout center, and I would understand for:

A young woman dressed like a 80’s basketball player = cool

An old man dressed like it’s still the 80’s = not cool

But let’s stick with the headband and change it to a hat, specifically, a cowboy hat.  I’ll admit it.  I’ve always wanted to wear one, to be seen wearing one, but the particulars have prevented me. 

First, my physique.  Whenever I place a ten-gallon hat on my head, I don’t look like I’m about to hit the trail.  I look like I’m all set to go trick or treating.  

Second, practicality.  A cowboy hat would stay on my head for .076 seconds during a bike ride. 

Third, attitude.  I don’t think I will ever wear a cowboy hat for I don’t inhabit the essence of one who wears a cowboy hat.  For example, take this photo.

 Here is a picture from Rory Doyle’s photo essay on the Black Cowboy culture in the Mississippi Delta. This girl may have no plans to buy cattle or pursue an oil lease, but it is assured she can ride.  Or maybe she can’t.  After all, she is not on the horse like this guy. But yet, she stares straight ahead like she was meant to be there, behind that horse, wearing that hat, and maybe that’s enough, like this photo.

 Two girls flowing in satin, but they aren’t walking down a runway or through a palatial estate.  Still, they don’t acknowledge the irony of the moment. Instead, they move through their surroundings, revealing nothing behind those (recently purchased?) sunglasses. Like the young woman at the workout center these two girls stick out, but does it matter to them that they do? 

But let’s get back to that cowboy hat and what made me recently contemplate buying one – Raylan Givens. 

Raylan is a fictional character, created by one of the coolest cats to ever pick up a pen – Elmore Leonard.  Raylan was brought to the TV screen by actor, Timothy Olyphant, and Justified creator, Graham Yost.  Raylan is a US Marshall with the penchant for wearing Stetsons.  Although he is stationed in modern-day Miami, FL at the beginning of the series, Raylan fashions himself a gunslinger, and this misguided belief lands him in trouble and leads him (as punishment) to be reassigned to the field office of Lexington, KY where he is paired with Rachel Brooks to hunt down a fugitive. 

Rachel prefers power suits and can’t understand why her new partner is wearing a cowboy hat. Why not a Napoleonic bicorn?  But by the end of the episode, even she is not immune from trying it on while Raylan sleeps.  And, yes, she looks ridiculous.  But I don’t think what makes someone look cool in a cowboy hat resides in being a cowboy or gunslinger.  Just look at Don Was.  

Don grew far from the open range as one could, living in Detroit, MI.  He didn’t spend much time roping cattle, but gravitated to the Motor City musical scene.  A bassist by trade, he eventually formed the band Was (Not Was) and had an 80’s party hit “Walk the Dinosaur.” But producing pop hits was not his dream.  So he found himself gravitating to the production side, working with musicians from Bob Dylan and the B 52’s to the Rolling Stones and Bonnie Raitt.  But forty years after forming his first band, he was back on the road with The Pan-Detroit Ensemble and I had a chance to talk with him, but the only thing I wanted to know was how he got his signature look: 

“It was 1996.  I was producing a record for Richie Sambora, and we were working in my house in L.A., and he had a hat maker come to the house.”

The hatmaker was from Baron and Sambora said Was should get one made.  Being receptive, Was showed the hatmaker two album covers.  One had Merle Haggard, the other, Bob Dylan. “Do a combination of these two hats.  And the guy made it and showed up two weeks later and I put it on, and it felt like I was born in it.”

But enough about hats.  Let’s get to the bottom of things.  

For a while I devoted my time to a show set in post-Katrina New Orleans.  Treme is the name.  It is also a neighborhood where the show is set.

I liked the show for it didn’t have a big aim other than to highlight the lives of its residents from street musicians and bar owners to Mardi Gras Indian Chiefs and one whacked-out DJ played by MN native Steve Zahn.  

One of the characters in this gumbo of characters is Janette Desautel played by Kim Dickens.  In one episode she’s opening up a cafe and is hoping for a successful launch.  So her head waiter, Derek, gives her a heads up and points to a table.  He says they are food bloggers and it was best to show them some love.  

How did he know?

He said that food bloggers will always dress up to give the appearance of affluence, but will always forget to wear a nice pair of shoes.  

Unlike hats, everyone wears shoes. So maybe we should devote more care in selecting them.  But then, they are mostly out of sight and taking the brunt of la terra firma.  So it’s always nice to be directed like when I was at the Palace Theatre.  

I was waiting for Phoenix to take the stage.  A middle-aged couple standing next to me sparked a conversation.  They were from Up North, but recently got back from a music festival in Atlanta.  They said they loved Phoenix. Actually, the girlfriend loved them, and she made it clear that she would drop everything and go on the road with the band if the lead singer, Thomas Mars, just asked.

And her boyfriend?  He didn’t seem to mind.  In fact, he told me to note Mars’ shoes.

“Why?”

“Expensive!”

“How expensive?”

“Italian expensive!”

Well I checked them out and they looked nice. They looked like hiking boots for those who had no intention of going hiking.  But what did I know, considering I only have two requirements when buying shoes:

First, they must be comfortable.

Second, they must be on the discount rack.

For a while I satisfied both requirements at a local shoe shop, purchasing New Balance running shoes at half the price.  Yes, everything was going to plan until the Neo-Nazis stepped in and announced to the world that New Balance was their shoe.  

I got it. All the cool kids had Nike, Converse, Puma and Crocs.  What was left for a fringe group other than a shoe that was worn by suburban mall walkers in their 80’s (and me).  But say what you will about Neo-Nazis.  One thing they are not is cool, and their proclamation freaked out a great many.  Obviously, the company didn’t want their brand to be associated with White Supremacy.  And of course I didn’t want people thinking that the “N” on my shoe was for Nazi.  So I decided to look for a shoe that blended in, didn’t get noticed, yet remained comfortable.  I will not reveal the brand, but I will state the company is based in Montana and its name sounds a lot like a woodwind instrument.

So everything was going to plan with these unremarkable shoes until one day I was approached by a woman who wanted to compliment me on them.  

“Compliment my shoes?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“They are so plain.”

(Nailed it!)  

Shoes may be fine when it comes to appearance, but let’s not forget the reason we wear them.

In high school I devoted some time to a show set in Boston, MA.  St. Elsewhere was the name and it highlighted the medical staff of the beleaguered hospital, St. Eligius.

St. Eligius is the patron saint of goldsmiths, blacksmiths and mechanical engineers. So, of course, it was the perfect name for a hospital where you don’t go to melt gold, shoe  horses or fix a production line.  Maybe that’s why the hospital was so beleaguered.  Still, I enjoyed watching the show every Wednesday at 9 pm.  But first, I had to get to a television.  One problem.  I worked until nine and was downtown punching out when the theme song began.  

I’m not sure how I got home by the time the show started.  I think it involved an inordinate amount of commercials and not following any of the rules of the road.  Still, it was worth it for I got the opportunity to see Denzel’s first walk.

Denzel Washington has made a comfortable living with his walk.  His unique stride is broken down into great detail by a real doctor.  In his video Dr. Martin lists these traits.

Stride – Denzel’s walk is relaxed and purposeful with feet straight ahead.  No duck walk per this quack.  (Doc pun!)

Top – Denzel’s head moves before the rest of the body as if already knowing what’s around the corner.  

Mid – Denzel’s arms hang loosely with palms facing back.

Terra Firma – Denzel practices a “heel hover” which isn’t too far forward or too far back, but casual and in control. 

Bonus – What makes Denzel’s walk his own is what Dr. Martin calls an “asymmetric lateral tilt” a slight dip of the right shoulder, a dip that gives the walk a certain swagger, a musical quality for there is a strong beat (right) and a weak beat (left). 

But I didn’t know any of this when I saw Denzel as Dr. Philip Chandler in a hospital corridor all by himself at the end of one episode.  It was the end of a long day with no one else around.  So he started to walk through the empty corridor, the camera giving him time to showcase his stride, a walk that not only revealed the interior state of his TV character, but also announced to the world that this unknown actor was soon to become a star.   

I swear I saw it.  I saw an actor ready for the limelight.  I saw an actor ready to become a leading man.  I saw an actor who would go on to win an Academy Award for a role where he will light a cigarette and shout for all to hear: “King Kong ain’t got (beep) on me!”