Slipping On The Lederhosen

To my knowledge there's not a drop of German blood in my body. But there's something alluring about lederhosen. Not sure exactly why, but those goofy, German short overalls strike me as comically cool. Oh, how I wish I had a pair.

The closest I've come is buying a German lederhosen hat while visiting a pal in Heidelberg many moons ago. I wore it while gorging on a mountain of brats and ingesting gallons of brew. Yet, some snooty Germans didn't seem to appreciate my traditional crown. After being chided, I simply growled back at them like the obnoxious American they expected.

The hat currently rests on top of a giant plastic clown head in my den. I still don the hat occasionally, and it's become the recipient of my exhaustive pin collection. I guess it holds somewhere around three dozen pins, and I'm guaranteed quite a neck workout when I put it on.

Whenever I attend an Oktoberfest celebration, I reach for the hat. After culling together a list of events for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, the "hut" is calling my name.

You can read my round-up of Atlanta area Oktoberfest events here: bit.ly?PRXLJy

Anyone with an extra pair of lederhosen? You know who to call.