The Ruminator

Come on up and grab yourself a beer.

Sunday, February 09, 2003

In the beginning . . .

When I was two or three years old my aunt gave me a stuffed toy cow. I named it, with the creative flair of a toddler, Moo Cow. Apparently I was quite obsessed with Moo Cow, and took it everywhere. Those who went to my 21st birthday party will be aware that Moo Cow survives to this day, currently in quiet retirement in a cupboard in my parents’ garage. My obsession with Moo Cow led my older brother to give me the nickname Moo, and as a family nickname it has stuck ever since. [I might say at this point that having tried most of my life to restrict the usage of ‘Moo’ to my immediate family, it seems a bit silly to post it on the Internet. On the other hand, ‘I had a cute childhood nickname’ is hardly going to rate as the most sensitive piece of personal information every revealed online. But I digress.] As a pre-teen I once asked my brother why he had named me Moo. He responded, with the charm of an older brother, something along the lines of “Well, because you’re a cow. And you’re always mooing on about something.” Setting aside the character assassination, he may have had a point. Because some twenty-four years after Moo Cow first entered my life, I have succumbed to the temptation to blog. Why? Because now I have a place where I can moo on about whatever the hell I like. You are welcome to come visit and chew the cud.


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