What's in a name?

I went to get chocolate doughnuts and coffee this morning. Walked through the square to hear a man hacking a loogie. A lawn mower scalped a tree branch, I heard the scream. People kept staring at me, that creepy way you feel a portrait following you, but you don’t turn around to look. Or the trees in the evil forest singing the Jitterbug.
It’s a beautiful morning. Crisp. Fall-like. I almost expected to leaves to hang like peaches.
I think what I like about the blog is sharing. Do you care that I went to get doughnuts? Probably not, but when I’m full of the world all I want to do is share bits of myself the way dandelions cast off their parachutes.
The woman who gave me coffee looked at my credit card, astonished by my last name and asked: How do you say that? Van Blank.en.ship and then she and the woman next to her mulled it over on their tongues and said Flan Vlankenshit. “That must have been awful as a kid trying to learn all that!” and I said yeah, I think my whole name including my middle is 26 letters. “Like the whole alphabet! Man, I would have gone crazy as a kid trying to learn all that.” And the woman apologized for being nosey, which she wasn’t because I told her people comment on my last name all the time. I want to keep my last name for writing always. I love it. I walked out the door and could still hear them talking about it.

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