You know, to me the worst thing about winter around here is not the gray skies. It’s not the freezing rain or the snow or the sleet or skidding on one heel across a parking lot clutching a bag of groceries in one arm and doing the “Windmill Prayer” (Oh God, oh God, oh God…) with the other.

It’s the stupid winter hats.

Now, we are all aware of the double-blind scientific studies conducted by generations of Midwestern mothers which prove at least 170% of your body heat escapes through your head. Apparently all that heat erupts right through your hair like a roman candle, and once it’s all gone you “catch your death of cold.”

According to this carefully-documented research, a hat serves as a sort of “body heat bottle cap.” As a result, every Midwestern child grows up duty-bound to keep some kind of lid twisted onto his or her head from Thanksgiving through about a week before Easter.

As you have probably already noticed, most kids can get away with wearing clothing, especially hats, that make them look like little trolls or Oompa-Loompas. You can plop just about anything on their little melons and they end up being “cute.” And the same is true for most women - remember how adorable Diane Keaton looked in Annie Hall?

As for me, looking “cute,” or even halfway decent in a hat has never been a particularly realistic goal. If you were to put that same Annie Hall hat on me, within seconds you would have the neighbors dialing up the Help! There’s a Psychotic Pervert On My Block hot line.

Here, in detail, are some of the headgear “looks” I’ve experimented with over the years:

The Elmer Fudd - If you’re anywhere near as old as I am (hint - I now measure my age in “geological periods” rather than “years”) your mom might have put you in one of these gems when you were about seven. This hat is kind of like a baseball cap with a flat top and ear flaps, and it makes a fashion statement that cries out, “Beat me up and take my lunch money.”

The Toque - For those of you who have never spent time “Up North” or in Canada, a “toque” is one of those wool beanies like the one sported by that Waldo character everybody wants to find. Around here we call them “stocking caps.” Some young guys, like my son, can yank one of these down to their eyebrows and look good, albeit a bit sinister. Not me. Even without the mask and the horizontal-striped shirt I wind up looking like a cartoon burglar.

The Cossack - Big furry hats might look terrific on gold miners, polar explorers and Russian Prime Ministers, but they make me look like I was involved in an unfortunate incident involving angular momentum and the hindquarters of a sheep dog.

The Great Detective - This is that tweed hat with the droopy brim and ear flaps worn by Sherlock Holmes. It is called a “Deerstalker,” presumably because any deer catching sight of you with this thing on your head would be laughing so hard that it would make an easy target. I once tried a cousin of the deerstalker, introduced to the world by Inspector Jacques Clouseau in the Pink Panther movies. Every time I wore it I got attacked in my parlor by a little Chinese guy.

Besides these major millinery themes I’ve tried lots of other, less classic options, ranging from fluffy ear muffs (OK, they were pink) to cowboy hats. I’ve even tried combinations - it turns out, a pair of fluffy pink ear muffs worn with a cowboy hat also gets you beat up. On the up side, the guys who beat you up for this hardly ever take your lunch money.

So there you have it. Even though my mother’s not around any more to supervise my cranial thermodynamics, I’m still trying to find something I could wear on my head to honor her memory without subjecting the lady next door to permanent psychological damage.

Any suggestions?

Mike Ball is the Erma Bombeck Award-winning author of "What I've Learned So Far..." and the book What I've Learned So Far... Part I: Bikes, Docks & Slush Nuggets. This column is an excerpt from the book

Copyright © 2009, Michael Ball