Stuck in a Kaph?

Today, when we went to the park, I had my cap on, to hold my hair back. I hate caps and especially, when I am serving caps get in the way. I couldn't see the ball on my forehand, backhand, or lob. It served only one purpose, to keep my hair down.
It made me think about the special and sweet tradition that now seems all but gone in our culture was of men tipping their hats. I am too young to remember the days of such a practice being pervasive. I have only met a rare gentleman, or two that still practice that greeting every where. ( Either that, or gentleman don't think I am ladylike enough to tip their hats at me or I am too bothered about life thoughts that I miss the greeting altogether).
Whichever it is, I think it a beautiful lost art of greeting and taking one's hat away from one's eyes, if one happens to be a man, to see a sight, which is what that greeting seems to be saying. I think women should start tipping their hats at men, these days.
My Moabitish study of the Christianization of the pagan cultures melded together through time, often takes me into the thought of little habits of now or yesterday and wonderment where such a greeting or culturally accepted occurrence came from. Today my cap and the fact that it was Kaph day at camp and the fact that we are 2 weeks to nine on my Ethan time clock.