The Naming of Gizmo

I've always had a fascination with naming things. Whether it is a nickname or given name, it is interesting how one arrives at a name. According to my mom, the names that my parents had picked out for me were Elizabeth or Jay depending on gender (obviously). In a moment of genius, my dad suggested 'Robert' to my mom and she readily agreed because she had been in labor for about 20+ hours. I dodged a bullet there. The reason he named me 'Robert' is that it is his father's name (my grandfather). My dad could be nostalgic and sentimental, for he was named after his grandfather as well. I was 'Robert' until I went to college. It was there that I started introducing myself as 'Rob'.

I introduced myself as 'Rob' because it didn't feel like I was saying my own name. 'Rob' was somebody different and I didn't feel like I was talking about myself. It was a weird self-conscious thing about saying my own name. Also, college is a huge shift, and I felt changing my name would be a way to reinvent myself. Nope. Still the fool.

During college I took up the moniker of Mitch Moon for my college radio station. I play the drums, and I named myself after Mitch Mitchell and Keith Moon. Most of my friends from college were DJs, and we still call each other by our chosen nicknames- except me. Maybe it doesn't role off the tongue or fit me. Maybe if I called myself 'Jester' that would have stuck.

From previous positing about my adventures (if you haven't read about them, start here), you know I named my motorcycle Simone. This is not her original name. I originally named her 'Helga' because she is German (BMW) and there is something hefty about her.When I hear the name 'Helga" I think a hearty woman. As I rode her more and more, I realized there was a beauty to her that left me enamored. I met a beautiful German girl named Simone years ago (10 years in December), and she left me enamored. I didn't name my motorcycle after the girl. I'm just alluding to her- it is an association thing. Stop judging. However, after testing the waters with a couple of different name, I have finally found the perfect name- Gizmo III.

My grandfather had a boat called Gizmo. Then there was another boat called Gizmo II, which is the source of one of  my favorite stories concerning my dad and uncle. My dad and uncle were in their 20's and just the two of them took Gizmo to go water skiing. My dad's version was that he was on the skies and my uncle was driving, sitting on the side, while steering. My uncle hit a wave and it through him out of the boat. My dad fell of the skies. My uncle claims that he was skiing and my dad was driving. However, what happened next they both agreed on.

The boat started going in circles with no captain. As the boat was circling, my uncle grabbed on to the ski rope and tried to pull himself to the ladder to get on the boat. This is very dangerous because of the boat propeller. As my uncle got closer, the force push of the propeller took my uncle's bathing suit clean off him. He let go and tried to find his swimming suit to no avail. Dejected, my dad and uncle waded in the water as the boat just circled around until the ski rope tangled up in the propeller and stalled the engine. They swam to the boat and drove back in to the boat launch. However, the two young guys in their infinite, youthful wisdom did not bring a towel or extra clothing. The only bit of clothing was my uncle's shirt. He wrapped it around his waist to cover his naked half, hoping not to offend too many people. Fortune was not on their side as the boat launch was crowded. My uncle had to dock and help load up Gizmo on a trailer in nothing but a shirt wrapped around his waist. In my mind's eye, he has it wrapped like a diaper because that makes me laugh.

I came to Gizmo III as a remembrance of my deceased ad and grandfather, and the many adventures they had in those boats. I'm having my own adventures just on land- so it is Gizmo III

Gizmo III and Rob(ert)

Until I ramble on again. . .