I read today that a man named, and I’m not making this up, Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop was arrested for marijuana possession recently. It turns out he had a perfectly respectable name until he decided to have it legally changed. It reminded me of a story my mom told me this past Christmas about how my Aunt T got her name.
First of all, you had to know Aunt T. She and my uncle never had children, and she didn’t tolerate us well. Not to say she didn’t love us, it was just that while my grandmother was the one who always taught Sunday School and took you home after church for cookies, Aunt T was more likely to give you a stern, “shhh!” and pull your hair for talking during the sermon. She didn’t have a whimsical bone in her body, which is why is was so funny to find out that her actual, legal name was Tipsy Topsy. Seriously.
Mom says that my great-grandfather started naming his children strange names because he had a friend named John. John was unlucky enough to be in a bar when ANOTHER man named John started a fight. As my great-grandfather’s friend was walking home in the dark, someone called out, “Is that you, John?” When he answered yes, he was killed! My great-grandfather vowed that his children would never suffer such a fate. Which is why Tipsy Topsy also had sisters named Gracie ToeToe, O.Z. Roxie and A.G. Neoma, and sons called Q.X Quillers, Hank Brushers, and Allison Leathers.
Kinda makes me sad we named our daughter after J.D.’s side of the family. Tipsy Topsy Tyre has a nice ring to it.
TTT is better than KKK anyday:)
Not. Buying. It.
While we were researching family history this summer we found lots of these stories. Don’t go looking if you don’t want to find the good stuff.
You forgot about that Gospel Quarterly Advocate, rolled up nice and tight, delivered swiftly -right upside the head. No wonder we tried to sit in the front row. Poor T, at least the others got Gracie or Neoma or initials or something else to go by. I probably wouldn’t have a whimsical bone in my body either.