The upper branches of my family tree are just chock full of lovelies. There’s scandal, suicide, possible spies or war profiteers, black people having to pass as white, white people fleeing various countries one step ahead of the law, and somebody who could potentially qualify me for membership in the DAR if we were sure he wasn’t a mercenary.
But the thing I like best is the names.
Sure, you’ve got your Abrahams and Hortenses. You never meet a Hortense anymore… Horaces abound. There’s a Thaddeus, whom we do not talk about. But my absolute favorite name of all time from my family tree is: Anastasia Murphy.
It’s possible that somebody was a fan of late-medieval manuscript borders & decided to tip their hat to an illuminator by that name who Christine de Pizan lauds in her proto-feminist opus, The_Book_of_the_City_of_Ladies.
Knowing my people, probably not. And since I think she was around quite a while before the Russian revolution, Anastasia was likely just born near Christmas time, when the feast of St. Anastasia is held – or was, back in the day.
The point here? Is that if I ever join a rock band I have the perfect stage name at the ready. Just a wee change to the first part of her monniker & I could be: Anesthesia Murphy, drummer for the Grrl Group, The Peppermint Westies. First single: When Plaid Goes Bad.
Not that I know how to play drums. But I feel that this is only a minor setback.
I’ve always been a huge fan of Dave Barry’s proclivity for extracting band names from everyday occurrences & it’s become a habit to do so myself. He’s got a new book out this month that you might want to peruse: I\’ll Mature When I\’m Dead, or watch the man himself: If the Westies don’t go big, I’m thinking maybe we could form a They Might Be Giants tribute group. The Mesopotamians would be an awesome name for a band..
(Thanks for your link, Inveterate Optimist!) inveterateoptimist.blogspot.com