I was done-in last weekend from stepping into a gopher hole (or, more accurately, a groundhog hole). I knew where it probably was, but in the midst of battling Wisteria vines, I had a momentary lapse of caution, an errant step, and a hip-pulling spill. All this was witnessed by a neighbor and about a thousand people zipping up and down the busy road in front of my house, which helped insure that nothing really serious was wrong with me (had I managed to break something, nobody’d be around, of course). At least the fetchy straw hat I wear for yard work gave me an air of “Greg Norman” dignity. ‘Cept mine has a tropical print for the hat band, instead of a shark (which happened to match the underpants I had on at the time, which would have amused the emergency room staff, had I needed treatment–too much information).
Anyhoo–now I have an very important task: naming my adversary. One must have a name for that which one is up against. From music school daz, I remember my music history teacher proclaiming that he’d no longer give partial credit (to give an example) for misspelling Buxtehüde’s name as Buckstahootie on tests. And since this sounds a little like Punxsutawney Phil (the official groundhog), how about calling my groundhog Buckstahootie Phil? Or, given the name of my town, Brookstahootie Phil? Or, given my pseudonym, Whookstahootie Phil?
Of course, a plainer name may be better. I’m considering: Hovis, Castro, Wohlfahrt (like the violin composer), Wetherell (like the FSU president), and Finebaum. Decisions . . . decisions!