a rose is a rose is a rose
“that which we call a rose. by any other name would smell as sweet!”
you know that line old bean . . .
it’s from willy shakespeare’s romeo and juliet
act 2 scene 2.
this post is not about roses. nor willy. nor romeo and juliet.
it’s about names.
my marine tells me i’m eccentric. he said it has nothing to do with my age. that i’ve always been eccentric.
he has said that before. i used to be slightly offended. somehow it seemed like it was a rather glorified name for odd.
maybe it still is! LOL. but i’m older now and i think that it means totally and delightfully fascinating! LOLOL. hey.
this is my post. i’ll claim my own definitions thank you, old bean.
years and years ago when i got my first job at norman savings and loan ~ our office was next door to a suite of insurance offices. there was a girl there whom i called roberta.
i greeted her of a morning “hi roberta!” she always answered back ~ very friendly like ~ “good morning tammy!” and whenever our paths crossed during the day . . . and of a friday . . . “have a great weekend roberta!” “you too tammy. see you on monday!” . . . you know . . . that kind of thing.
well. i got married to my darling bob. i quit my job and moved to tulsa.
several years after that we were in town to visit and i was at the super market. i remember it like it was yesterday. it was near the lettuce.
lo and behold . . . there was roberta! i went over to her. she reached out and hugged me. we were glad to see each other. we caught up on our lives ~ then . . . when parting . . .
she smiled and said. “by the way tammy. . . my name’s not roberta. it’s phyllis.”
well. good grief charlie brown. and great scot and cathouse thursday!
you could have knocked me over with a feather. for TWO years i had called that woman roberta. and not a single soul corrected me in that whole two years!!! how WEIRD is that???? and they say I’M the eccentric one! LOLOLOL.
the only reason i mention it here is that it still seems to be happening.
when i came to see the wren house for the first time ~ i could have sworn that i met the head maintenance man by the name of nick.
i have seen him on the other occasions i had to come and do paper work and changes etc… i have always said “hi nick!” and he would always smile and say “hello” in response.
today i rushed back from the house closing to try to meet the man from AT&T to start my phone jack. i seem to be one of the last of the dinosaurs who still enjoy a land line. anyway.
i’m late. which is stressful. i was raised by a military man. it’s in my dna. you are NEVER late.
sure enough. there are the two men at the door ~ nick and the phone guy.
i started apologizing for being a few minutes late.
the phone man was busy doing what he does. nick had let him in.
“i’m sorry you had to come up here just for this nick. i thought i’d be able to be here before he got here.”
we visited a little bit about the complex and that he’d been here when it was owned by marriott as executive suites . . . before it became apartments.
i said “wow nick! you must know this place like the back of your hand!”
he said “yes. i do. and my name’s ron.”
“it’s not nick?”
“no ma’am. it’s never been nick.” he smiled.
“that’s okay. i don’t mind if you call me nick.”
“no. no. i’ll be glad to call you ron. i’m just glad you let me know before two whole years went by!”
nick . . . i mean ron . . . just looked at me like i was a little eccentric.
and that’s all i know about roses old bean.