What's in a name? Well, le'me tellya...
My mother and father met in high school. Well, she was in high school anyway, He, however, was a 36 year old plumber, still living with his mom. I guess Dave - that's my dad - offered my mom a ride home from school one day and, well, the rest you can guess. She was 15.
Four years and two miscarriages later - their marriage only six months old - Yours Truly emerged into the world... snoring contentedly. My parents, finding themselves ill-prepared for the unexpected event of my birth, still hadn't yet decided what to name their little boy. As they bickered, the woman from the next bed over looked down upon the beauteous cherub that was I and said "He looks like a Brian." And so it came to pass, on the 2nd day of November nineteen hundred seventy, I was branded by a perfect stranger who, as fate would have it, had passable taste in male names.
And had I but one wish, it would be to have born to a different family...
My mother was adopted as an infant - she never knew her real parents. All I know of my biological grandmother is that she was a tall, gorgeous redhead, full-blooded Irish, who could play the piano and who died in a car accident because "she was too vain to wear her glasses" or because "she was a drunken harlot." If she was anything like my mom, either could've been the case. Anyway, I never learned the woman's name.
Okay, so, this is all contrasting weirdly with my preference for Irish redheads and girls who wear glasses. So, yeah, moving on...
I've decided I need to legally change my name - my last name. I've no interest in passing on, or even continuing to carry, whatever Jerry Springer blood curse has attached itself to my family. I want a fresh start. I'm thinking of picking something Irish.
Any suggestions?
Four years and two miscarriages later - their marriage only six months old - Yours Truly emerged into the world... snoring contentedly. My parents, finding themselves ill-prepared for the unexpected event of my birth, still hadn't yet decided what to name their little boy. As they bickered, the woman from the next bed over looked down upon the beauteous cherub that was I and said "He looks like a Brian." And so it came to pass, on the 2nd day of November nineteen hundred seventy, I was branded by a perfect stranger who, as fate would have it, had passable taste in male names.
And had I but one wish, it would be to have born to a different family...
My mother was adopted as an infant - she never knew her real parents. All I know of my biological grandmother is that she was a tall, gorgeous redhead, full-blooded Irish, who could play the piano and who died in a car accident because "she was too vain to wear her glasses" or because "she was a drunken harlot." If she was anything like my mom, either could've been the case. Anyway, I never learned the woman's name.
Okay, so, this is all contrasting weirdly with my preference for Irish redheads and girls who wear glasses. So, yeah, moving on...
I've decided I need to legally change my name - my last name. I've no interest in passing on, or even continuing to carry, whatever Jerry Springer blood curse has attached itself to my family. I want a fresh start. I'm thinking of picking something Irish.
Any suggestions?