Anyone new to this random little blahg might wonder who The Commander and Grandroobly are (they are my parents) or what the Landfill is (my house). When you have a blahg, it is hard sometimes to decide where to draw the line on privacy. Although I think I am probably pretty easy to find via my blahg, over the years, I’ve grown more careful about identifying other people by their real names. I will occasionally do it, like when my children graduated from college. But I do refer to most places and people by nicknames here. Reader Dona suggested I post a glossary. Maybe not a bad idea and it was just about the slodgiest Sunday on earth, so here’s a start:

The Commander: My long-suffering octogenarian mother (or is it me who’s long-suffering?). Champion grammar corrector. If you feel the urge to say something like “I ain’t got none” make sure that you get yourself over to the schoolyard or some other place where you are out of earshot.

The Engineer: My (late) brother, long-suffering at the hands of a terrifying older sister. Automotive engineer, jazz trombonist, snow-mo and powerboat driver before turning toward more silent sports in later years. Dog-lover and uber-collector.

Fin Family Moominbeach: My family’s beach on Lake Superior since Grandberry bought it (with a couple of friends) back in the 1920s. Actually, it is *technically* on the Upper St. Mary’s River, looking up through the river’s mouth into Whitefish Bay. I spent all of my summers there with all of my cousins and other friends. It was the proverbial village that our school districts are now trying to shove down our throats. Wish I had more time to spend there.

Froggy: Hmmm, I really have no words for this ridiculous little amphibian who occasionally hi-jacks my computer so he can use GarageBand to record ribald little ditties and post them on my blahg when I’m not looking. Grok grok! Ridiculous? Ribald little ditties? Don’ lissin t’ that stoopid Ol’ Baggy. grok Ggokr frdok grodko! Uh, well, there he is. If you see green, it is not me, it is Froggy.

The GG: Long suffering significant other (husband and father of children). GG = Grumpy Growler, although I am usually more grumpy. Twinz of Terror, which you’ll occasionally see, refers to the GG and his identical twin brother.

Grandberry: My grandfather, who is long dead but makes occasional appearances here, not to be confused with Grandroobly, his son.

Grandroobly: My (late) father, WWII pilot rather reluctantly turned banker. Runner, walker, skier, sailor, paddler, driver, ice-clinking beach-sitting Great Lakes freighter-watcher. Grandroobly? We were at a funeral dinner and he spilled water or something and suddenly his granddaughters were calling him Grandroobly. He accepted that. What can I say?

Green Guy Cafe: Radical Betty’s front porch overlooking Lake Superior. Wifi and occasionally coffee.

Landfill: My house and main residence on the west side of the Planet Ann Arbor. We bought this house 25 going on 26 years ago a few months before Lizard Breath was born. It is a trash pit. Please don’t anybody even entertain the idea that I might need any more stuff. I don’t. (-;

Lizard Breath: Older 20-something beach urchin living in San Francisco. With part of my heart in a jar under the bathroom sink next to the cleaning supplies. Or somewhere.

Mouse: Younger 20-something beach urchin living, uh, here at the Landfill. One of the most talented people I have ever encountered (not my doing) and looking for interesting, meaningful work. Sorry Mouse, had to put a plug in. Occasionally updates Mouse Nest.

Ol’ Baggy:Th’ ol’ bag hoo calls herself Kayak Woman. Do not be fooled, sheez just an ol’ bag. Grok grok gork.

Planet Ann Arbor: Mid-sized mid-western college town, home to the University of Michigan. Visited cousins here as a kid and always wanted to live here. And do. And love it. But hardly ever go downtown these days. Go figger.

Radical Betty: “Favorite” (late) aunt, sister to Grandroobly. Hiker, bush-whack skier, paddler. Absolutely fearless Amazon woman willing to try just about anything.

Yoop (or Da Yoop): Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I grew up there, my moom (see “The Commander”) lives there, and we have land there (see “Fin Family Moominbeach”). I don’t remember being called a “yooper” when I was a kid and my moom HATES that term. I think it’s pretty funny.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 28th, 2010 at 7:17 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.