Sunday, March 30, 2014

My grandmother's mom.

I'm convinced that modern civilization has overcorrected when it comes to time-saving improvements.  People are so idle now that even the un-introspective can fall into dark, existential quagmires and have mental disturbances that would never afflict someone who simply didn't have the time for it.

Something tells me that Ms. Rose Emma M. didn't have this problem.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

When I was young, I was only ever known as Britt.  No one called me by my full name except for teachers and my mother when I was in trouble.  Sometimes, my full name still sounds like a cringe-making admonition in the wrong mouth.  Some people thought my name was actually Brett.  Upon hearing that, my stepmother decided Brett was a cute name for a girl and called me that until my dad made her stop.

Going by Britt was fine because my mother actually named me after Britt Ekland, adorable Swedish babe, Bond girl, Sellers ex-wife.  I suppose people have been named after worse things, such as cars, clothing lines or inanimate objects.

Britt Ekland came out with an exercise video in the early 90s, called "Britt Fit".  I have a lot of cousins and am one of the younger ones, meaning I was teased regularly and could never quite get the upper hand with my older, cannier cousins on long summer days at our grandmother's house.  They'd either ditch me somewhere or taunt me until I was blustering and angry, at which point it was declared that I was having a Britt Fit.  Clever little assholes.

My whole family trades in uncharitable nicknames for each other, though.  I see one of my uncles only a couple of times per decade, and his greeting is inevitably, "Hey, Bratney."  Every kid had multiple nicknames, from cute, grandma-bestowed monikers ("Britlet") to far more offensive items dispensed by older kids ("Shitney").  My dad's friends all had nicknames as well, come to think of it.  The Doctor/Dr. Benz (my dad, not a medical professional), Mr. Danger, Big Don, Uncle Chili (my godfather).  I remember Big Don's tiny daughter answering the door once on a Saturday night, and screaming over her shoulder, "It's The Doctor! And Britt."  Wordplay is one of my favorite things.

Nothing was worse than being called Britney Spears in high school, though.  It happened for years, and annoyed me more than it should have.  No one has spelled my name correctly ever since.  I'm constantly referred to as "Britney" in emails at work despite the fact that the correctly spelled name is part of my email address, and in my goddamned signature.  HOW DID YOU TYPE IT CORRECTLY IN THE TO: FIELD BUT NOT IN THE BODY.  /brittfit

tl;dr: I'm going back to Britt.

The album cover for my forthcoming volume II of Songs for Squares: 1965