100 Things That Still Make Being Me Just That Bit Better... 74
Fred McGherkin-Squirter
... was once, apparently, a real person. In the Sydney telephone book. Many years ago.
I have no idea who he was or where he came from... or went... or even if he was real or just a journalist's imagination at work, but along with the 1991 newspaper cutting that brought him to my attention and the others immortalised therein, he went straight into my Department of Utter Joy file.
I am sure those of you who have been paying attention have noticed my {cough} mild interest in names. All names, any names, plain names, fancy names, ancient names, new trendy names, pet's names, scientific names, imaginary names...
You can't blame it all on Mr McGherkin-Squirter, truly, but this little old article kicked my interest into a high gear and yes, I started my own little collection (none of which really equal the great American collections that yes, I have bought books of, but I have a fondness for Lorelei Jelly, Advance Australia Fair Jones, Happy Victoria Lemon, Willibald O Ditz and Porteous Fairlie. And I actually knew Thomas Lambert A'Beckett and utterly charming he was too.)
You can't really use them, of course. Like my equally beloved little wordhoards full of archaisms and overblown sesquipedality, they're of no practical good. And I know all too well that the charm of the weird is far greater from the outside looking on and scribbling down, rather than having to live with. But the fact that they are there colours the world a little more brightly for me, and that's enough.
(There was an Englishman called Blue Murder Smith once. Truly. Well, I like it :)