Sunhat & Chum

Nicknames always come with a backstory.

One of Kara’s many depictions of Sunhat & Chum, in doodle form.

April 2022

For years before succumbing to heroin addiction, I was a walking tour guide in downtown Portland. During that same time, I was attempting to launch a writing career and tour guiding was a very enjoyable way for me to help make ends meet in the interim. It was a job I truly loved and held onto long after writing started to pay the bills. But as with any gig, there were strong recommendations and requirements that came with the position. In addition to a generally cheery disposition, gentlemen were encouraged to wear casual but collared shirts. During warmer months, I would also typically wear cargo shorts, KEEN sandals, and a sunhat. I looked like a dad on vacation.

As our relationship progressed, Kara and I would regularly regale each other with tales of the good, bad, and ugly from our previous lives. I revealed to her that as my downward spiral into addiction was building momentum, I would regularly score immediately before or after my walking tours. 

This blew her mind for a number of reasons, not the least of which was how this Bob Saget-looking bastard was acquiring black tar on the streets of Portland. “How in the hell did anyone ever risk selling anything elicit to you!?” “Well,” I told her, “You have your regular sources, and when those fell through, I would go to the known areas, and try to make the right kind of eye contact.” “Sure, as is the standard operating procedure for such things…..but you still look like….fucking you!” “Yeah,” I continued. “But eventually I became a regular in these spots and the hope was that someone might recognize me. And sure enough, inevitably someone would vouch for the sunhat.”

Kara erupted into laughter. Long, deep, breath-depleting laughter. Upon regaining her composure, she swiftly and officially dubbed me, “Sunhat.” Not just because of the punchline, but because it spoke to my aforementioned cheery disposition and penchant for all things practical. I’ve been Sunhat ever since.

Kara’s appearance was markedly different from mine. Adorned in all black with knee-high leather boots. Sleaves of tattoos, long dark hair, cat-eye glasses, winged eyeliner, and an unparalleled ability to shoot daggers from those same artfully contoured eyes. She often joked that she looked more like my lesbian chum than my lady. And thus her nickname for us as a couple - Sunhat & Chum. She would also go on to introduce numerous hashtags for that shit, with #sunhatandchumgettingitdone being her most regularly chosen social media heralding.

Sadly, my sunhat was lost in the fire. But because, just like her hiking boots, her sunhat resided in the back of my car and was spared. Yes, she did own one - black, of course. Strangely, it fits me. And I suppose that once it stops smelling like her I might eventually wear it - Sunhat & Chum rolled into one.