Ellie Mae

Ellie Mae
Beautiful Ellie Mae

Freddie, the French Bulldog

Freddie, the French Bulldog
Lazing on a sunny afternoon

The artist

The artist
Ollie Mac

Ollie and Annie

Ollie and Annie
Azorean grandmother

Acrylics and watercolors

Acrylics and watercolors
Cannabis and sunflowers

Papa and Ollie Mac

Papa and Ollie Mac
Priorities, Baby

Acrylics and watercolors

Acrylics and watercolors
Hollyhocks

Mahlon Masling Blue

Mahlon Masling Blue
My friend and brother.

Mark's E-mail address

bellspringsmark@gmail.com

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Ollie Mac

I’m not even a grandfather yet, and already I am faced with a challenge: What do I want little Ollie Mac to call me? If the question had never arisen, I might have assumed that Grandpa would be the operative moniker, but all of the sudden I am rethinking matters.

Here is an opportunity to forever etch into family lore, a catchy title, which is better than a sketchy title, or so I am told. I could be Bebop or Bumpy; I might become Opapa or even Stud Pa. Uberdaddy, Gampy, Big Dawg, Chief, Umpa, Jaja or just simply Pow, are all in the running.

When I look over multiple lists of suggestions, it gradually dawns on me that there are no boundaries here. Pick a name-any name-and you are good to go. Maybe I should try and work from a different angle, and base my name on those activities to which I plan to try and introduce Ollie Mac.
Take reading books, for instance. Maybe I should be ShakesPaw, or GrandBlog, since I plan on reading books aloud, at every opportunity down the road. Or how about BusterDad, since baseball will also be a part of the pitcher, er, sorry, picture?

BusterDad! It has a nice ring-or three-to it.

I know, I know. I’m 65, I have a bad shoulder, a bad knee and a bad toe. How am I going to play baseball with Ollie Mac? I’ll tell you how: I can sit in a chair and play catch. This will accomplish two things: It will allow Ollie Mac to practice catching the ball, but even more importantly, it will teach him accuracy in throwing. I say that because if the ball goes past me, he will have to play run and ketchup, because I am not going to move.

If I do move, it will only be to the kitchen, to cook up a storm. Maybe I should call myself ChefDaddy or ChiliMac. Think of it. Ollie Mac and ChiliMac together-what a team!
Stand by, 2018...

Let’s not forget farming; every kid in the universe thrills to growing radishes. Maybe I could be VedgeFather, or BrocPapa. Let me roll BrocPapa around my tongue for a moment or two. There is no stopping me now. CauliBop, SquashDaddy, CukePaw and RutaPop! I’m just getting started now.

It’s a good thing I found out about this opportunity with a couple of months still to go. This is going to take some serious thought, especially with spring training opening up only three weeks from now. Spring training! Shazam! Not sure but I may have it.

How does GrandPapi sound?









2 comments:

  1. Hi Mark, FYI, sometimes you don't get a choice! Sometimes the child picks the name and it sticks! When Erin was little she called Mom and Pop Grammer and Amper! Clara calls me Grammie!

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    1. Of course, silly me. What do I know? "Not much," they all said in unison. Ha ha. I plan on learning, though. Great success!

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