When my now-husband and I were dating, we spent our first summer together going to different festivals and cultural events. I was a city kid, who loved fairs and fests and free concerts in the park. He was a country boy who liked beer and loud rock-n-roll music. And he loved his pickup truck. We were (and are) a rather incongruous pair. However, we were happy and newly in love, so he followed me to festival after festival while I happily rode in his pickup.
Because my husband had grown up in a fairly homogeneous town, the city of Denver sometimes confounded him, and he often felt (and still sometimes feels) uncomfortable in the presence of diversity. One of the fairs I loved was the Black Arts Festival held at East High School, a place to find diversity. While I haven't been to it in awhile, it was an amazing festival 12 years ago, filled with fabulous music, fascinating history and culture, and amazing art. I had attended for several summers in a row, and I wanted to take my new boyfriend to this edifying event.
We had a great time, listening to music and perusing the art booths. At one booth, he stopped, mesmerized by the wooden carvings. He picked up a carving of a figure that is sitting, with one arm holding onto his face...like he's thinking. My husband loved the work, the wood, and the carving itself. I didn't know then that he has a long-standing love of wood and woodworking, and lovely objects made of wood.
He bought it, and we immediately began calling it "Thinker Dude." He put it on his fireplace mantle, where we were able to admire it. After we were married, I found that Thinker Dude was a force to be reckoned with. Once he fell from the mantle and landed on my head, leaving me briefly stunned and with a large knot. Thinker Dude is a solid piece of wood. Thinker Dude has fallen off tables, denting the floor, and yet to look at him, no one would know of his power. The strength and power of Thinker Dude is always with us, and we move him from place to place in our house, careful never to drop him on a toe; to do so would then involve a trip to the ER for a broken toe.
When I decided to try blogging, I thought of some moniker that best represents me. I tried all sorts of silly combinations, but then I remembered Thinker Dude. I realized we have a great deal in common. He's perpetually thinking as I am. He's solid and can hurt someone if he falls on them. So can I. He's been around for awhile. Me too! I finally decided to use Thinker Dude as my model, my muse. However, not being a "dude" was my next problem until I remembered that I have, occasionally, been referred to as a "dudette," a phrase that makes me cringe. So why not "Thinker Dudette?" And a blog was born.
