This is Francisco's hat. I met Francisco sitting on the sidewalk, crumpled up, babbling to
everyone who passed by. He spoke to me, so I squatted down to his level and started talking. He
was a wee bit inebriated. He told me his life story (I think), and I told him who I was and where
I was from. I asked if I could make his photograph. He gave an emphatic "NO!", and explained it
was because his beard was too long, his clothes too dirty, and his hat too old and dusty and
worn. He threw his hat down and began to crumple it and pound it on the sidewalk. I asked if I
could take a picture of his hat. He decided that would be okay.