The Hat Makes the Man
The truly cold weather was just beginning to set in and with the changing
temperature came the cold & sniffles season as well. I had a stuffy
nose and the accompanying headache.
Don and I had been sent from our Chicago office to Salt Lake City for a few
days. The flight was uneventful but the cabin pressure aggrevated my
nasal congestion and amplified my headache.
When we arrived in Salt Lake City, I picked up the courtesy phone and asked
the hotel to have their van pick us up. Don and I were both dressed
for the Chicago winter with heavy cloth coats and that day we were both wearing
those Russian style fur hats to protect our sparsely populated craniums.
The van pulled up and out popped a freshly scrubbed young Morman lad from
the hotel. He was very polite and helpful. When he asked our names
Don replied, as with my headache I was not in a talking mood. His reply "Rubovitz
and Ujvarosy" seemed to roll off his tongue with a long R to start and a
long e sound at the end of my name.
As we drove into town in silence our young driver kept glancing back at us
in the rear view mirror. Finally he summoned up his courage and asked
"have you gentlemen been in America very long?" Don looked stunned,
I bit my tongue to keep from laughing out loud. In the kindest
voice I could muster I replied "well yes, actually I've lived here all my
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