It seems to me that any and all inspirations I have for this blog come to me in the middle of the night, or shortly after I retire for the evening. Why is that? Is God getting even with me for something I may have done in my past? Insomnia is a horrible malady, and one I might, perhaps, only wish upon my own dreaded enemies. However, at this stage of the game, it would appear that insomnia will be my heavy chain to carry around.
So, after laying in bed for the past few days recovering from bladder surgery, I have had countless time on my hands. Many topics have swirled through the frontal lobe, and well all the other lobes as well, and got me to thinking about names. What's in a name?
A few years ago, one of my paramedic friends started to refer to me as "Annie Mac" and it has stuck since then. I noticed while I was being prepped for surgery the other day, that every RN that came into the pre-op room had a greeting for me..."Hey Annie Mac, how ya been?" I must admit I rather like the name.
When I was but a wee thing, I knew where I stood in the family by the way in which my Dad would call for me. Ann meant "okay- I am looking for you, but you're not on the chopping block yet". If Ann Corry was uttered, this was a signal of "You are in some serious trouble, and you can forget about spending any free time watching t.v.". Ann Corry Gartlan - well that was the sure and steadfast signal of punishment and more than likely, I had committed bloody murder of some sort.
When I gave birth to my own children, I made sure that those kids would carry some name that meant something, that stood for something and that must have an "N" at the end of the name. Go figure, an "N". First there was Eryn...a beautiful name - very Irish and to me, a sound of grace and serenity. Then came Bryan. Another "N" ending name. With such names, I felt rather confident that my kids would escape the wrath of nicknames or pet names.
Now, 27 years later, I realize that no one gets through life without a nickname. Eryn became "Eryn Bear" or "Little Girl" and Bryan got shortened all the way down to a simple "B". And after all the fun I had in predicting what mood my daddy was in by his calling of my name, I have found myself along the same lines...one name means one mood, and another means something different. Thankfully, the kids are fairly well behaved, thus the need for nicks isn't a necessary as it was back in my day.
Now of course, the media outlets have nicknames for people as well. Ed Schultz of MSNBC made the grievous error of referring to right wing pundit Laura Ingram as a "slut". People on the left have some pretty choice words for Ann Coulter. And let's not forget Sarah Palin. What's with the name calling? Arnold, the governator...well he has a lot of names he can own up to now...sperminator, nanny-nater, etc. Some people have even climbed the famous celebrity tower so well that one name, rather than two identifies them. Madonna, Cher.
Back on my block though - I am quite content with Annie Mac. It has a nice ring, it comes with affection and at this point, it is far better than what I have to look forward to down the pipeline....Nanna Anna or Grannie Annie.