An Oracle and White Wolf strolls Trout Lake and the Great Beyond.

It’s so great to wear my outrageous headgear. The Oracle’s “Bud-Bowler” gets most people’s attention even if they try to hide it and ignore me. It’s sad to see some of the most extreme reactions, like scowls that my hat draws. All little kids love it. Some dogs react strongly to it, while others don’t see anything different. And then there are those who are bold, happy, outgoing, and quick-witted.

The dysfunctional, totally absurd reactions of some are dispelled by the wash of smiles, happy heartfelt compliments, downright infectious goodwill and camaraderie of many others. What a treasure trove of joy this cranial statement is. It seldom means what I intended it to mean, to other people. That’s one lesson of my hat: people will have their own perception no matter what I want to say. The exact reaction to an Oracle that most people have is the one they choose to have.

Old ladies think of their flower gardens when they see eight inch Psychedelic buds drooping from my head. Young grade school children think it’s something about being green, like in the environmental field. I talk to them about the green attitude that I have developed. No more driving. I’m on a bike just like them.

Women are more liberated than men. My hat draws artists, writers, and sundry protestors of issues. People who are drawn to the marketer.

The Wolf is a bit skittish around people, still, but is progressing. Where I love the crowded sidewalks, being stopped by strangers, unless there is a dog involved he’s not into it and soon displays impatience. He’ll take my hand in his jaws and clamp on it in ever increasing pressure until I quit gabbing and pay him some mind.

The nights when we roam are a more sinister occasion.