Seeing red over choice of hats

You would think that someone who was on the finalist list for a Pulitzer would be used to dealing with anxiety.

I myself have never been in the running for such a prestigious award, but I did once win a badge for selling the most Girl Scout cookies many decades ago.

(I was only a Brownie at the time) so I have some understanding of how stressful it can be to compete for any kind of treasured recognition from your peers.

That’s why I was so shocked to learn that Rebecca Makai, the author of a well-received book titled “The Great Awakening,” which was voted one of the best books of 2018 by none other than the venerable New York Times, was triggered at the sight of red hats.

Not just any red hat, of course, although that becomes an integral part of the story.

The red hat that makes Rebecca tremble is the one that Trump supporters wear, Make America Great Again baseball caps that some people compare to swastika imagery and burning crosses.

Here is what she tweeted the other day:

“Is anyone else made really uncomfortable these days by anyone wearing any kind of red baseball cap? Like, I see one and my heart does weird (stuff) and then I finally realize it only says Titleist or whatever. Maybe don’t wear red caps anymore, normal people?”

In the tweet, Rebecca doesn’t name the MAGA hat per se, but the more than 20,000 followers who “liked” it knew exactly what she was referring to.

I found the tweet itself to be a little strange, even in a world where snowflakes abound and sensitivities are made of Baccarat crystal.

As I noted in a previous column, this is not really a political thing, because even conservatives like Bret Stephens can be guilty of what I call the “Curling Up Into A Fetal Position” response to offensive comments.

But there does seem to be a large section of the population that isn’t capable of distinguishing between things that society has a right to hate – Nazi imagery, KKK attire, burning Tiki torches borne by men whose mental deficiencies are second only to their other limitations – and hats.

I don’t care if you don’t like MAGA hats, you don’t get the right to tell anyone what they can put on their head if they want to advertise their support for a particular candidate.

But – and this is the larger point – you cannot quarantine an entire color simply because it reminds you in your delicate, Pulitzer-finalist way of something else, and that something else gives you nightmares.

You cannot tell a Phillies fan, for example, that they are freaking you out if they wear a commemorative cap on their heads (although you are perfectly justified in asking why, with the way they are playing, anyone would want to advertise their allegiance to the team.)

The fact that an ostensibly educated woman felt comfortable enough to tweet out such nonsense is more troubling than the fact that she is actually troubled by a hat.

The fact that thousands upon thousands of people agreed with her is a sign that the Rapture is near.

Let me be perfectly honest with you, here:

I despise those stupid little pink pussy hats women were stitching up a few years ago to express their outrage at Trump’s election.

I made fun of the hats, jokingly wore one for a photo in this paper, and have deliberately tried to keep pink out of my stash of yarns.

Newborn baby girls now get lavender blankies from Aunt Christine.

But I do not tremble in fear at the sight of a bottle of Pepto Bismol, and I am mature enough to simply look in the other direction if someone wearing one of those hats crosses my path.

And believe me, I find them to be as objectionable as Rebecca apparently finds the MAGA caps.

So my advice to the Pulitzer finalist is to just suck it – and grow –up.