TERRE HAUTE —
A letter from a friend recently asked if I liked my name! He claims I look like an Elizabeth.
Actually, I’d never thought about it before, but I guess I think that Elizabeth is too regal a name to really fit me. On the other hand, Elizabeth is who I am. Fortunately, it’s a name which lends itself to nicknames. I’ve picked “Liz.”
I’ve always been thankful that I wasn’t named for either grandmother. I never knew Grandma Agnes, but I don’t feel like an “Aggie.” Or, I could have been named for Grandma Elma. I never heard of another Elma, but I’m glad it isn’t me.
I was already Elizabeth before Shirley Temple hit the screen, so I was spared that. “Shirley” reminds me of a cute, curly-haired moppet and thinking of myself as Shirley strains my imagination.
I’m grateful Mom and Dad didn’t get cute and make up something. I’m told Dad wanted to name me “Laura,” after Mom. She drew the line and he vetoed her choice of “Sally.” I would have liked being Laura, but I’m satisfied with the compromise.
We did get another Laura when our granddaughter was born. Her parents call her “L.” Sooner or later we all get a nickname.
I look at the current spate of Tiffany or Chantelle and wonder about nicknames. Hard to imagine a Tiffany being tagged “Fanny.”
My cousin, the nutty one, married a man whose last name was “Harris.” She named their daughter “Scarlet O.” No points for cute and as soon as Scarlet O was of age she changed her name. She’s “Sandra” now.
My Best Friend never liked his name but he’s had plenty of choice. He was baptized as “Armand” but has always been called “Elmer.” He likes his middle name, but already had a cousin named “Sam.” The neighborhood kids dubbed him “Cinc” — rhymes with sink — and that followed him through the Air Force as his call sign. Number Two son also drew “Cinc” as his call sign in the Navy.
So, do I like my name? Mom and Dad picked it. It’s who I am and have been for a lot of years. Who else would I be?
Liz Ciancone is a retired Tribune-Star reporter. Send e-mail to opinion@tribstar.com.
Liz Ciancone
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Discussion
LIZ CIANCONE: What’s in a name? It's part of an identity
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We are short one granddog. This past week, “Indy” could no longer use her back legs and she went to that great dog kennel in the hereafter.
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My Best Friend and I went out for lunch the other day. It was a sit-down place with our own “server” (in my day I was called “a waitress”) and everything offering personal attention. The manager even came over to ask if everything was all right.
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Have you ever noticed the transformation between the arrest of an accused lawbreaker and the first appearance in court?
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My Best Friend isn’t much for writing letters, so email has opened a new world for him. He can dash off a few words to a high school friend or his college roommate — now living in Florida and Washington State,
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For some reason, I seem to be the go-to source for all sorts of obscure information out at the Wabash Valley Family Sports Center.
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I once owned a gun. Actually, it was Dad’s gun and I was allowed to use it. He bought an air gun which shot BB’s to protect our home — in a way.
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LIZ CIANCONE: A robin stops to welcome the spring
I saw a robin the other morning. It was not the first robin of spring, of course. A few of the more daring robins had opted to spend the winter and, although they looked pretty sorry about it on a few occasions, it was a fairly mild winter.
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I hope you won’t think I’m picking on small animals, but I’ve been thinking about Easter and the Easter bunny.
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I read in the newspaper the other morning that Punxsatawney Phil is being hauled into court and charged with falsely predicting an early spring. I am volunteering my services as counsel for the defense.
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The problem with expecting a groundhog to predict the arrival of spring is that there are groundhogs scattered all over the country. The Pennsylvania groundhog may not see the same kind of weather as the groundhog out here in Dobbs Park. In this way, false hopes are roused and the groundhog loses credibility as a meteorologist.
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It was either Romeo or Juliet who said, “What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”
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I grew up rather stupid. I didn’t realize it at the time. Neither did my teachers who seemed to think I had “promise.”
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I’ve been following plans for celebrating “The Year of the River” with interest. Rivers have played such a role in my life that I’ve celebrated a good many rivers. The Wabash River is merely the most recent example.
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I was asked the other day why I write about dogs I have known, but never about cats. “What’s the matter?” they asked, “Don’t you like cats?”
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LIZ CIANCONE: Sharing the family history
My Grandmother lived with us. Ed and I were eager audiences for her family stories about the Cooks. Mom also shared her memories of growing up with three brothers.
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We Americans are a strange bunch. We insist upon our right to privacy, yet we neglect few opportunities to parade our personal business in public.
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I’m told that a pun is the lowest form of humor. I guess that typecasts me! I love them, but then, I like any type of word play.
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Let me ask you something.
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There has been lots of reporting lately about how long movies are becoming.
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LIZ CIANCONE: Resist that big ‘let down’ on the day after Christmas
Today is the big day. That makes tomorrow a sort of let down — rather like “What have you done for me lately?”
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LIZ CIANCONE: No thanks to getting mags delivered via the Internet
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LIZ CIANCONE: Everyone has a favorite holiday
I suppose everyone has a favorite holiday. My guess is that, for most of us, that holiday is Christmas. It's a holiday with a miracle no matter how old we get.
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It’s a funny thing about time. It can speed along so that you cannot believe that your kids can possibly be old enough to have good sense, or it can drag its heels while you wait for that first grandchild or while you are saving up for something really special.
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Why is it called "Black Friday"?
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