Especially if it's cold, don't trust a man who doesn't wear a hat. When it's cold, a hat keeps your head warm—one of those vital centers of warmth, your head, along your hands and feet, I'd say. And when it's summer, a hat protects your head from sun—from more heat, from overheating.
So it's always practical to wear a hat outside, you see. So men should always wear hats outside. And like the Marines, you never wear your hat inside. And if that is such a rule with Marines, no hats inside,—and they will slap you round, Marines, if you wear a hat inside, I know, believe me—then its opposite, hats outside, must be just as strong.
Gentlemen wear hats outside—and rich or poor, a gentleman is a gentleman yet. Read Joyce. That was only less than a hundred years ago when he wrote, about what he wrote. But you can see, looking out at to-day, that wearing a hat has become a lost art. No one wears hats anymore.
But some do wear hats, you will notice. And I generally don't trust a man who doesn't wear a hat—at the very least when it's cold. They are not practical it means to me. They are not outside. They are inside. They are sealed-up. They are empty. They are plastic molds of tigers or elephants you get at the zoo. All day they count numbers and think money, like the businessman on his little planet in "The Little Prince." But they don't even think to put-on a hat. They are idiots, addicted to their damn money, or to whatever else it is they spend their time thinking. And they would have yours too if they can, your money—or whatever else it is—or your time.
A man is not my brother, generally, if he doesn't wear a hat. Love everyone. But don't trust everyone—you simply can't, for your own safety. So who can you trust? You can trust your brothers.
Now, that I only trust people who wear hats, that is my more general rule. To be even more strict, I look at clothes too. Are their clothes practical too? Or, if exposed outside to the elements for any amount of time, would they struggle to survive—dressed inappropriately for the weather.
But not only that, are they dressed appropriately for the weather or not, if they pass that test, I am still looking at their clothes. What are they made of? If it's polyester—which is the case almost always anymore, we've been so fooled—is it at least cheap polyester? Or is it 5¢ polyester disguised with an emblem, a $50 N—ke shirt, for example. And very few pass this test. If you can afford to throw-away $50 on some cheap, polyester ADID—S shirt, and if you will, then you are no brother of mine.
And then shoes perhaps are the easiest way to determine do I trust a man or not. Are his shoes good, strong shoes? Or if not, if they are cheap, shit shoes—or expensive, shit shoes even—are they at least torn nearly to shreds. Or if not yet torn to shreds, are they at the very least cheap shoes. But a man with good, strong shoes torn nearly to shreds, now that is a man I would allow to walk my daughter to school, so to speak.
Very, very few pass these simple tests even. But you must know whom to trust. Or if you will trust no one, you will be alone. And that is shit.
But you can't trust everyone. So you must learn what it is about others that you trust. A very good way to learn quickly is to trust those you shouldn't trust. But that is shit. And often it is dangerous. And you are just gambling with your life really at that point—in the United States especially.
But I've done it, trusted those I shouldn't have, by trusting everyone. Look for your reflection in others, so to speak—of whom you are now, of whom you were, and of whom you want to be. But there are always good and bad versions of you. So you must seek the good. And good recognize good. And bad recognize bad. And if good fall-in with bad, pray good overcome—Bob Marley's 'Redemption Song,' "But my hand was made strong, by the hand of the Almighty."