In Sergeant’s Steve’s lucky hat. Photo: Alex Filangieri

There’s no doubt.  War, and certain types of meetings, are hell.  I soldiered through a relentless barrage of such meetings last night into the wee hours of right now, revamping Institute infrastructures, amidst much shouting, arguing, threatening,  finger-pointing, baleful looks, passionate accusations and tearful declarations.  Its been about as sexy and fun as a root canal, but I survived, and through it all, I wore my new “Airborne Ranger Sniper Mountain” hat which I just received in the mail from ex-Canadian Airborne Sergeant Stephen J. Savage.

Sgt Savage, who listens to The Dr. Susan Block Show and “loves” my hats, decided to send me this very special one.  It belonged to a buddy of his named James, also a Canadian Army Sergeant, who wore it while serving in Afghanistan. As those of you who know me know, I’ve been against that tragic Perma-War ever since GW Shrub started carpet-bombing the Khyber Pass instead of seriously questioning some folks in Saudi Arabia (the native country of most of the alleged 9/11 hijackers) or maybe his brother Marvin who was running security for both Twin Towers and United Airlines  at the time.

As a peace-through-pleasure bonobo,  I’m against all the wars.  But I support the troops (I just want to bring them home to defend our/their lands rather than invading somebody else’s).  In fact, many of my favorite clients, friends and lovers have had the misfortune to have been stationed in one Perma-War outpost or another.

So…Sgt. James was in the middle of  Afghani mortar fire when this hat fell off his head.  He bent over to pick it up, and in that very moment, a mortar shell whizzed right over him.  If he’d been standing as he was just before the hat fell off, that shell would have ripped right through his body.  So you could say his hat–which is now my hat–saved his life.  I figure its got to bring me luck, especially when all I’ve got to navigate through is the friendly fire of a few bellicose meetings with people who care about me, as opposed to dodging mortar fire from people who want to kill me.

The hat also reminds me that sometimes something that seems like an annoyance–like picking up a fallen hat, or putting up with a tough meeting–can save your life.