I don’t think she’s bright enough to understand what people are thinking whenever they say her name. If that was my name, I’d have the decency to go by something like Charm, which would really be making lemonade from lemmons. Since my grandad, the rocker, still lives in LA with the latest girlfriend who’s barely legal - she’s two years older than I am and her name is Charmin, yes, like the toilet paper. It was weird, but weird is part of my normal. I keep trying to get his attention and roll my eyes back further into my head when he does the ‘rock steady’ thing, but he will not be deterred.Īnyway I was leading a completely typical and deliciously angsty teenage life in Austin, Texas when my parents were suddenly offered jobs in the LA area at the same time. That is not his name.Īnyway, the best protest I can mount is rolling my eyes. My grandfather doesn’t want to be called Grandpa or Grandad or Gramps or anything close to normal. They’re too strict to let me say what I think, especially about Buzz’s love life. After a visit, he exits with a two-finger peace salute like all the other well-adjusted hippie grandparents, but he doesn’t say, “Peace.” My grandfather was a big deal rock star in the seventies. If you want to know just how weird it can get at the Thanksgiving table, I can go one better. My mother is an ethics professor at UCLA who thinks the battle between good and evil begins at home. My dad thinks puns are the highest form of humor. When I’m eighteen, I plan to have it legally changed to something that doesn’t make people laugh.
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