Tyler

Today, a memory.

When I was in high school there was a boy who sat at my lunch table and his name was Tyler. He wasn't incredibly handsome, and he wasn't extravagant or loud or incredibly self-confident, and he kept his hair in his face and his face in his lap. I can still see him- mousy brown hair, lips like the guy from aerosmith, and a rubics cube in his hands. He was a real whiz on that thing...

Anyways, I mention Tyler because I found something yesterday in an old box in a stuffy closet that made me think of him. The sight of the thing brought back memories- it took a long time before I even remembered his name, although I could see his face with clarity. I thought I had lost this item a long time ago, but there it was. Real and tangible evidence that Tyler existed, proof that he was more than just a memory: a ski style hat, with ear-flaps and pom-poms.

Front view

In 2003, or maybe 2004, definitely no later than 2006, there was a sort-of fad at my high school and Tyler started it. In fact, he started it and, indeed, enabled its continuation. Yes, for the price of $20 you could join the cool crowd. How, you ask? Buy a hat that Tyler made.

Back view

Tyler was a crocheter. He took hat orders from just about everyone in Freshman year- plenty of Sophomores, too. Give Tyler a color scheme and twenty bucks, and in a few days you had a brand spankin' new ski hat made with Red Heart held double. Of course, aside from Tyler, I was probably the only one in school who knew it was Red Heart held double.

(Batman approves)

I had already learned to knit by this time- I certainly wasn't about to start selling my items, but I felt a certain affinity with Tyler and appreciated his craft. So - after balking at the price and talking him down a bit- I, too, purchased a souvenir hand-crafted hat. He asked what colors I wanted, and I told him to pick whatever he felt like. When he handed me the hat a few days later he told me he picked the color scheme to go with my personality- "crazy."

I was a weird kid in high school, I must admit. I was actually home-schooled for all but the first half of Freshman and the last half of Senior year- by choice. I was full of hate for authority, I made very few friends, and kept even fewer. I probably hated just about everyone at that school. I told myself it was because they were racist, but really I was the racist one. I hated "white people." I try not to hate so much any more, but yesterday when I saw the hat that Tyler made it brought me back to a different time, and to a different me.

Do you want to know how much I paid for that hat? I refused to pay full price, on principle. I told him I knew how much yarn costs and I knew hats weren't that much work. I acted all high and mighty and said I wouldn't pay the same price as everyone else. And so, I paid him nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents. One penny: I was that stubborn.

Yep. It's a funny old thing, this hat. This memory. This life.
I am proud of his handiwork. Now that I know how to crochet I look at his color change rows and nod in satisfaction. His pom-poms aren't perfect- they desire some trimming- and there are some ends improperly weaved in, but I have to wonder...
Does Tyler still crochet?
Is he on Ravelry?
Can he still solve a Rubics cube in 40 seconds?