THE ABSENT-MINDED SHIKKER

When I was a freshman at MU, my boyfriend-of-the-moment Howard (I dated a lot of guys; “dating” in 1961 didn’t mean what “dating” means in 2009) took me to a bar on the night before the new semester (New Semester Eve?).  In Missouri the drinking age was 21; I was 18.  Somehow this made no difference. [1]

So Howard and I were talking when a stranger passed by our table.  He was maybe 40 — certainly old enough to know better than to say to me, “Miss Hadassah Goldstein, I presume.” [2]   All right already, so I look Semitic.   He walked away, and I thought that that was the last I’d see of THAT shmeggeggie.  I was wrong.  I met him the next morning as my professor in Humanities 101, where he was totally sober and totally recognizable.

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[1] Why did I want to drink?  It only made me stupid.  Maybe I enjoyed being stupid for a while.  I haven’t had a drink in 30 years.

[2] When Joseph Lieberman was a vice-presidential candidate, everyone learned his wife’s first name (Hadassah).  I’d never heard it as a woman’s name; I only knew the organization and thought it was a Hebrew word for charity.  I e-mailed Hadassah headquarters; they told me it meant Myrtle.  Flower names were once popular: Lily, Flora, Rose, Iris, Violet — even a Pansy here and there.  “Myrtle” is just as valid, but not very popular (probably because it rhymes with turtle).  The fashion changed to names for gems and jewels — Opal, Pearl, and Ruby.  Ya gotta wonder what’s next.   Double first names (no, not Billy Dickie; I’m from NORTHERN Missouri) were popular when I was young: Sara Louise, Paul Dean, Ruth Lynn, Wayne Carl, Brenda Gail, Robert Lee, Ellen Kay, even Mae Sharon.

Oh, it IS pretty!  On the other hand, do I wish my granddaughter had been named Myrtle?  Sweet dreams, Jackie.