There are moments in time when one convention comes to an end and another begins. For instance, in the beginning of the 20th century there was a point where cars outnumbered horses. And within that transition there were a lot uncomfortable changes. Horse traders lost jobs, car dealers got jobs and the smell of horse poop was replaced with exhaust.

These moments are marked by events when you suddenly realize they're happening.

Like yesterday, while leaving the house, I nearly tripped over a glossy, orange bag with AT&T printed on it. "A phone book?" I thought. Why the hell do I have phone book on my porch? (And before you leave a comment about people who still use phone books for whatever reason, know that I get it.) But honestly, at what point do we see our last phone book? The two days that I have mine are made up of one day on my front porch and one day on my dining room table until it finally goes into the recycling bin.

Each year it becomes more obvious that this, of all printed material, is dead. Now if AT&T handed out primitive Kindles in little orange bags, I'd think, BOOM, they'd have something – and each year was just an updated download.

And I don't even have a land-line. So, does everyone in town just get one? Did you get one? I'm sure at one point it was an excellent profit center for yellow page advertising, and that could still be the case. But the audience for all of that advertising has surely bottomed out in the past 10 years.

So, there it sits on the porch – future recycling fodder in a future poopy bag.

Do a Google search for "1920s baseball crowd" and you'll find some wonderful things: The innocence of a bygone era, a haunting reminder of our mortality and a lot of guys wearing hats. Hats, for crying out loud.

I'm kind of pissed off at John F. Kennedy.

After all, he is blamed for killing the hat within American culture. We used to wear some hats until the election of 1960 came along and Kennedy wanted to show off his chock of thick, Irish hair and, BOOM, no one else wanted a hat either. I mean, it's not like it got less sunny or we suddenly suffered less from bad hair days – it simply lost favor.

Years ago on an elevator – I remember it like it was yesterday – a gentleman got on and was wearing a nice suit ... and a beautiful hat. A black suit with a black fedora with a feather. I found myself having an instant man-crush on this guy and even managed to stammer out a complement, "Great hat." I was smitten and vowed to become a hat wearer.

And no, baseball caps are not "hats."

But it's tough wearing a hat. You feel like some geeky fashionista the first time you try it on. This is new territory. It's not like your father taught you how. My father was 17 in 1960 and much preferred the hatless Kennedy style. So, you're left to figure it out for yourself.

I have been bolstered as of late, though, seeing the hat's popularity make a small return. I got a hat for Father's Day this year and each time I wear it, I get complements. I'm becoming more comfortable and am feeling my way through the hat world.

I invite you to join me. Maybe as a celebratory gesture for the Brewers postseason, we can all buys hats and go to the ballpark. At least the hat will be a hell of a lot cheaper than the seat. Go Brewers!

I've been hesitant to write this blog for the following reasons:

1. I love the brands I'm talking about and want them to succeed.
2. It goes against my mom's advice of, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

But my frustration level is at orange and I may need a little venting.

Lately, the largest two worldwide brands that represent the fiber of Milwaukee have been slipping a bit in their marketing efforts. And not making big mistakes, but little ones that over time could damage their brands.

The latest Miller Lite campaign is not only lowest common denominator humor, but it panders to them. The "Man Up" television spots employ more than antiquated humor, cheap production qualities and disconnect themselves from the core audience. Now, I understand that Miller Lite is a "jester" brand and needs to appeal to a broad audience. At the heart and soul of any jester brand is the motivation of belonging. So, the group of guys giving each other hell about their masculinity is a solid place to start.

But the execution falls off when the joke is so expected and the thought is completed for us, the audience. Give us some credit as beer drinkers and speak to us on our level. This campaign, in the long run, will come and go like so many before, but it could be so much more effective. Especially at a time when Bud Lite, too, is tanking with their "Here We Go" campaign.

The other brand I want to talk about has done nothing wrong, outside of Elton John, in my eyes. Harley-Davidson broke out a new spot within their "No Cages" campaign that left me wanting well ... nothing. The spot features a biker hooking up leashes to dog cages outside of a pet shop (?) and then pulling the doors off, freeing the dogs.

Dance break: "Who let the dogs out? Who-who-who."

I was semi-shocked at the lack of anything cool about this spot. Now, I do think the Wide Glide in the spot is killer and I would love to ride it this very minute, but honestly, the experience of this di…