When I set this blog up the other day I needed to pick a name for it. The brain cells were not firing at first and I started to just put something having to do with the 7 things meme. Staring at the screen and the mess on the desk set my mind to wandering and after a winding path that passed uncountable oddities I settled into thinking about names. I love names. Not just simple ones, like Pat and Sam or Bobby or Beth, but odd names full of strange character. I love memorable names that have a story behind them. Hell, I like common names too but I adore them more if there is a story that backs them up. My name is pretty common - Sara. No H on the end there. I'm not a "Say-ra" and there are no religious connections to my name. Although there are two stories behind my naming I like the one that connects me to my father. He idolized Bob Dylan and Sara was the name of Bob's first wife and the title to a lovely song on the album Desire. My middle name is a family name and it connects me to all the amazing women on my mothers side of the family. I've got a story and I like that.
So, where am I going with this? Let me warn you now that my writing style is shit and I'm a babbler. That I am ever able to put together a thought on Twitter in 140 characters or less is fucking amazing. It's a good exercise in being concise and to the point for me. Not something I am good at yet but there is always hope. Similar to my hope that I may still be a 7 ft tall drag queen and the belle of the ball for just one night only at Club One, eclipsing the drug induced awesomeness/total train wreck that is the Lady Chablis. It's good to set the bar high on your goals, right?
Ok, back to Mingo and his Tingle.
My Uncle Steve is a collector. His main interest is in Native American cane basketry. Chitimacha baskets especially. In his travels and quest for these pieces of art he has met some interesting folks. After one trip down South he told me about meeting a Chief Tingle and his son, Mingo. I believe they all met in Mississippi, not that it matters really. What I took away from his trip was the name Mingo Tingle. I thought that it was the most original and wonderful name I'd ever heard. It is fun to say out loud. Do it! Now I tell you!! Tell me that name is not like springtime in your mouth. Admit it!
Mingo Tingle. Mingo Tingle. Mingo Tingle.
I have never met Mr. Tingle and I am not sure if my Uncle ever encountered him on his travels again. At some point it might be nice to contact him and tell him how much I admire his name. I believe it has a meaning based in his Native American heritage but at this point I have forgotten the exact details. All I know is that I enjoy the name just as much today as I did the moment Uncle Steve told me the tale of the Tingles.
Perhaps Mr. Tingle will stumble upon this pitiful piece of my brain. I hope that he doesn't take offense at my use of his name. I hope that he loves his name as much as I do. Hey, maybe he even shares my dream of being a 7 ft tall drag queen for a day too. Weirder things have been known to happen :P