Some years back, a friend thought I’d make a good elected official. Instead of writing “Carolyn Daughters for president!” he wrote “Carolyn Gowers for president!”
A few years back, I sent a handful of friends an email rant about what I see as the sad state of affairs in today’s educational system. One of those friends (I’ll call him Reginald Summerfruit) responded to that email with the following statement: “Carolyn Gowers for president!” Huh? Surely he meant “Carolyn Daughters for president!” Right?
Carolyn: Carolyn Gowers? Really?
Reginald Summerfruit: What’s wrong? Is it “Gower” singular?
Carolyn: Dear God.
See, it was then that I realized that, though Reginald and I had been friends for years, he didn’t know my last name. Or, rather, he thought he did know my last name. It was “Gowers.”
Why did he think this? Well, one of my email addresses is carolyn.daughters@gowerstreet.net. For bloggish clarification purposes, I’m going to parse this address. Here goes —
- “carolyn” is my first name
- “daughters” is my last name
- @ means “at”
- “gowerstreet” is the name of my company
- “.net” is what I was stuck with cause some London hotel had already taken “.com”
Complicated, no? No? Well tell that to Reginald Summerfruit, who to this day has my name typed into his iPhone address book as “Carolyn Gowers.”
Bobby Joe Treknobabble: By the way, linguistically it should be “Springfruit,” not “Summerfruit.” Or if you really want to get technical, “Winterfruit,” since this particular fleshy fruit grows in the winter months in temperate rainy regions like the Pacific Northwest.
Reginald: Are you calling me a fleshy fruit?
Carolyn: Hello, it’s a made-up word. Linguistically, technically, and otherwise it doesn’t exist.
Reginald: Are you saying I don’t exist?
Carolyn: I know it doesn’t exist because I have mastered all English-language vocabulary while working on my novel. You know, the one I started last September.
Dr. Claire Lewicki: How’s the novel coming along, by the way?
Carolyn: Pretty well, thanks for asking. I’m about halfway through the first draft.
Bobby Joe: Winterfruits totally exist. I know because I studied them back when I was a botanyastroloentomology major one semester 10 years ago.
Reginald: Bobby Joe, why are you even in this blog?
Bobby Joe: Science!
Reginald: Seriously, Caro, why is he in this blog?
Carolyn: I don’t know. The blog has sort of gotten away from me.
Reginald: You think?
Carolyn: Anyhow, springfruit sounds stupid. Winterfruit sounds stupid too.
Reginald: Talking about words that sound stupid, what’s with the nickname Caro?
Carolyn: What about it?
Reginald: I don’t like it. Who came up with it?
Carolyn: You did. You’re the only person who calls me “Caro.”
Reginald: Are you sure?
Carolyn: Yes.
Reginald: Not to change the subject, Caro, but I’m wondering how your novel is coming along. Are you still working on it? I haven’t heard you talk about it for months.
Carolyn: Reginald, I think you should have your head examined by Dr. Claire Lewicki.
Dr. Claire Lewicki: That job is too challenging for even a brain surgeon like myself to handle.
Bobby Joe: Science!
Reginald: There’s no need to be rude. I’m trying to be supportive here. I can’t wait for the day when I walk into Tattered Cover and see a display of books written by Caro Gowers.
Carolyn: Yeah, I can’t wait for that day either. I hear that Caro Gowers is a brilliant writer.
Reginald: And she should definitely run for president.
