What’s in a Name?

When I first moved away from home, back in 1988, I was undeniably homesick. It’s not like I laid around the house, crying and feeling sorry for myself, but I went home to visit a lot and could hardly contain my excitement as the time for each visit got close. That was the phase of Blaine’s life known as “Thank goodness the military gives you 30 days leave a year, young man, because if you’re married to this chick, you’re going to spend every single one of them going to and from Oklahoma.” He and I would drive home** twice a year, summer and Christmas, and I would fly by myself usually once or twice more.

The first few times I flew home, I can remember the anticipation I felt as we prepared to land in the OKC airport. I was so achingly happy to see anything Oklahoma-related --- the sight of a Sooner sweatshirt, or Eskimo Joe’s t-shirt, would bring tears to my eyes, and I would find myself smiling fondly at any man in a cowboy hat and boots.

The very first time I went home, just a few hours after arriving, I can remember sitting in my mom and dad’s living room, feeling that all was right with the world. I was so happy and content, just being around my family again, in a familiar place, that I couldn’t imagine the entire world wasn’t just as pleased as I was that I was finally back home on Oklahoma soil where I belonged.

Then, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to discover a boy I had known from high school on the porch. I was SO touched that he had stopped by to welcome me home! I mean, he was a few years younger than me in school, and we’d never been close-close friends, but I thought it was awfully considerate of him to stop by and say hello my very first night home. It was like he was psychic, and knew how eager I was to re-connect and see people I knew.

And I said as much, “Steve, I can’t believe you stopped by my first night back; it’s so good to see you again!”

“Yeah, um, it’s good to see you, too” he said. And which point he paused, looked at me quizzically, and then asked, “Did you go somewhere?”

Turns out, he and my sister’s boyfriend were good friends and Steve was stopping by to see if he was there. He had no idea I’d even gotten married, let alone moved to California and been away for four months.

It was humbling, and definitely my first experience in learning that I was NOT as relevant to the rest of the world as I thought I was.

Fast forward a few years --- I was back home on vacation, and once again Steve stopped by. He and my sister were still friends, and although he remembered that I had moved away, I was still a little embarrassed by my egocentricity of our previous encounter. We were catching up on news, when he said to me, “Hey, did you hear? I’m getting married!”

I replied, “Congratulations, that’s great! What’s her name? Is it anybody I know?” (Because believe me, in a town this size, it usually is.)

“No,” he said, “she didn’t go to school with us. Her name is “x”

Ok, now. I won’t tell you her name because it would be a big ole’ invasion of her internet privacy. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with her first name. Just as there is absolutely nothing wrong with his last name. But you have to believe me, you just have to TRUST ME, that when you put the two names together, it is freaking hilarious.

Not hilarious like the Butz family naming their son Harry, or the Apple family naming their daughter Candy. More like a girl named Summer marrying into the Days family. Or a girl named Ilene marrying into the Over family. Or a girl named Iona marrying into the Carr family. Or a girl named Dee marrying into the Light family. But twenty thousand times more hilarious.

I can’t even give you a good enough example of how ironic this name is without telling you --- but trust me, it’s funny. So funny, in fact, that I knew Steve had made it up. There was no way it could be true. And I said as much.

Kristie: “OMG, that’s hysterical! How did you think that up?”

Steve: “Think what up?”

Kristie: “That name, how did you think that up? Ha, you crack me up!!!”

Steve: “No, really. That’s her name.”

Kristie: “Oh man, you are a hoot. I didn’t know you were so funny. Can you imagine if a person with your last name actually married a girl with that first name? It would be too hilarious for words!!!!!”

Steve, getting a little annoyed: “I’m telling you Kristie, I’m getting married and that is her name.”

Pause.

Kristie: “Ummmmm, are you serious?”

Steve: “Yes, I’m serious.”

Kristie: “Because I sort of thought you made it up.”

Steve: “No, it’s true.”

Kristie, quite abashedly: “Oh, um ….. well congratulations, I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.”

And at that point I decided I never wanted to see Steve again because every time I did, I made a complete jackass out of myself. And I CERTAINLY never wanted to meet that wife of his, knowing he most likely TOLD HER what a jackass I was and how I made fun of her name.

So ….. {looking around nonchalantly, whistling} …… can you guess who Kellen’s teacher is this year?

(sigh)

**Reminds me of another story …..

**Answers to some of your recent comments, because I am too lazy to go back in and answer them individually:

Cathy, yes, same principal’s wife, isn’t that nice? And the only awkward moment came when my mom asked if she’d like a tour of the house and she gently reminded my mom she had already seen it ---- how funny is that?? And YES, Sonics abound here. I couldn’t be happier. Unless they provided free unlimited home delivery. THEN, I would be happier.

Grandma J, I can only hear the kids out on the playground if I’m outside. If I’m in my office {or what I think will be my office if I ever get all these boxes unpacked} which is located in the front of the house, just a few feet from the porch, I can’t hear them. So either this house is well-insulated, or the wind REALLY carries sound.

Dena, how stinking cute are Helio and Julianne? I was thrilled that they won. Although I must admit that Mel B. grew on me as the competition progressed and you can’t deny her natural talent. I wouldn’t have been unhappy if she had won. But I do think the third finalist should not have been third, and STILL think Sabrina Bryan got the shaft.

Rachel --- December 22nd, and you better believe I’m counting down the days!!!

To the givers-awayers of electric knives: I doubt this is the most conventional use for one, but I have a dessert recipe that calls for a layer of ice cream in a 9x13 pan. I buy the block of ice cream in a box, unwrap it, lay it on its side, and use the electric knife to cut slices, then arrange the slices in a pan. There’s probably a much easier way, but it’s always worked for me! (Well, if we’re being honest, pretty much anything containing ice cream works for me!)