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What’s in a Name.

July 6, 2010

So…did your parents name you after the song by The Associations?

No, sorry.

Wait, I thought your name started with an–

Shhshhhhshhh. You don’t know that. Here, I’m Windy. That is for the kids.

These were some of my introductory encounters with parents the first day working as a camp consoler.  It’s what the nifty magnetic name tag decked out with a pirate skull sticker said. The only people who’d occasionally spill the real deal were the one that dealt with me in legalities, signing my “paychecks” and such.  Co-workers would swear off my real call sign as false, some not even realizing that it was my nickname.

Nay, adopted name. It was and is more to me than that.

I picked this name a year before, during a week stint there, volunteering with co-horts from my home stamping turf (about 7 states away). We all picked out names to tell that kids, for fun and to prevent the awkwardness of 10 year olds with facebook. So a year later, when the e-mail came out to employees asking for what nombre we wanted embossed on said tricked out name tags, I brought her back.

And she stuck.

None of my newfound co-workers at the time knew me prior, so they never had to even hear the real deal.  I was Windy Rose. And I had a theme song.  People don’t forget the theme songs.

(A-team has been stuck in my head all day)

(mostly because of Sharlto)


(*jeep flips*)

So I became Windy. It felt like a natural fit.  Life was magical.  I was living the dream out in the woods, a steady flow of kids, and a pack of the best people I’d encountered in one place.

Going home was F***in weird.

I act, I can adopt new names what have you on in a heart beat, but with the airflight came the name change. And resuming the 22 years that had piled up behind it. The responsibilities, good and annoying. The town. The fam. The friends. None of them really understanding who you just were.

Its rather amazing how you just changed you name like that.

It was so easy. To start over. To re-invent. Take what you want, leave what you please. Sure, some old flaws came right along for the ride; but I was alive. Living. Breathing. A Fresh 3 months old. Not a double decade world weary.

Maybe i’m too ‘young’ to be worn out with the world yet. This may be true. But re-invention frees any age.

Aw, your name is so pretty, I’m going to name my kids Windy Rose!

I’m bringing Windy back.

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