Remember when I told you about the guy in my college Creative Writing class who thought that the heel of the bread was called "the ass" because he came from a family that must have secretly hated bread? Well, the other thing that I learned in that class that had nothing to do with writing is that I have the wrong name. We were talking about naming fictional characters and our professor said that it was important to give characters names that suit them. "For example," he said, "there is someone in this class whose name does not suit her." I immediately raised my hand, "It's me, isn't it?" And it was totally me! We were supposed to devote some class time to renaming me, but it never happened. So, for twenty years I've been wondering what my class would have renamed me. My money's on Alabama Gypsy Rose.
Bless your heart, Alabama. Your daddy is named Shooter. It was inevitable.
Just so as not to jump before saying something nice about Shooter Jennings and Drea DeMatteo, my childhood would have been completely different without "The Dukes of Hazzard" and Shooter's dad, Waylon as the Balladeer. It's practically the reason that I now live in Georgia.
And, of course, I would be remiss if I didn't give a shout out to my home state with a great scene from "The Sopranos;" Christopher's intervention:
Drea's great as the doomed Adrianna, but I love Steve Van Zandt as Silvio: "Your hair was in the toilet water. Disgusting."
