Friend-Ship

In my life I have come across many interesting people, and many more who are memorable because they have been given interesting names. I am gifted with a friend named Lucky. Yes. It is her real name.

Lucky’s mother is Chinese and her father is of German decent, however, they were both raised in Calgary Alberta. Lucky calls her mom Lila the Chinese cowgirl and usually follows it with a YEEHAW! All this to say that I don’t think background had any thing to do with her name. Upon her arrival into the world her father who already had a son was so delighted to have a daughter to round out his family he just plain felt lucky.

An early endowment by the boob fairy cursed Lucky. She did her best to hide her bumps but with the end of grade school fast approaching Lucky was determined not to begin high school with three reasons to draw attention to herself. Somehow she knew she did not want the attention her boobs and her name could possibly bring her way. With foresight beyond her young years Lucky was determined she was going to have nothing to do with taking ownership of the “Getting’ Lucky” lines cruel teenaged boys would inevitably shout at her and so she decided to adopt a safer moniker. She slid under the radar of high school known only as Lisa.

Lisa is a storyteller as am I. We have found a common thread in our friendship regaling stories from our past to one another. She always gets tripped up dissolving into fits of cackling laughter at the names of the characters who make up my childhood. This has become a game. She tells me her father new a guy named RUSTY NAIL and a girl named MARY CHRISTMAS.

I lived up the block from twins whose last names were REAKES. I spent grade 8 in Junior high with an unfortunate boy who sold his dad’s home made moonshine out of his school locker who’s name was ROLLY DERBY. His sister Louise tried failingly to get us to call him Rolland in an effort to stop the teasing. I entered high school with a boy name MONSIOUR MONSIOUR but his nickname was meatball – I don’t know what name is worse. I babysat the DINGLEDINE kids and shared a paper route with a boy whose last name was FREAKE. Lisa will always be counted on to bring up one or another of these names on a regular basis asking me to tell her the stories again and again.

At the age of 35 Lisa had had a particularly tough year. In a moment that could only be symbolized as rebirth she announced to me over dinner that she was going to reclaim her given name. And so she began to go by Lucky for the first time since she was 13.

I don’t know why a girl with such a fitting and unique name finds all the people I talk about with equally unusual names so funny. It made me think I should call her up this afternoon to tell her about a girl I once knew named ANNE TIQUE.

Just so I can pull her leg a little.