You might be wondering what’s been happening with 2.1’s names. There doesn’t seem much point in naming our little roo, as it turns out his new owner will be picking him up some time this week, but we have to call him something.
Given that his new owner’s name is Tony, the decision was made a little easier: Gregory Peck, it is. For now.
Ava has been much more difficult. The fact that there will just be the two of them now, and the other is Marilyn Monroe…that’s an awfully high bar. I have gone back and forth between Rita Hayworth, Bridgit Bardot and Veronica Lake. If it’s going to be a pair, I’d really like it to be another blond, so that lets out Rita. “Bridget” on it’s own is a tad Teutonic for me.
Veronica…she was a blond bombshell, to be sure, but…let’s be honest; she was just not in Marilyn’s league. Besides, I’ve learned my lesson with long names. Because I write the name of the hen who laid it on each egg, “Hermione” can get tiresome, and I’ve almost become lost in the loops of “Tallulah” on more than one occasion. It can be hard not to run out of egg on which to write.
I needed a blond bombshell of Marilyn’s magnitude and intensity, a woman who owned her age as Marilyn owned hers, which is not a simple thing. Then it came to me…
Mae. She shall be Mae. Who else owned sex the way Marilyn did, but 20-30 years earlier, and in such a diametrically-opposed way? Knowing vs childlike; strutting vs purring; lascivious vs wide-eyed? Each is the photo negative of the other.
So, there you have it, chickeneers: Marilyn and Mae. It’s catchy, it’s alliterative, and it feels right.