Wednesday, May 02, 2007
My Niece was 10 years old today. She was one of the first babies born in Birmingham during the couple of hours after New Labour won the election in 1997.
Sister 1 told me that one of her first visitors, in the early hours, was a reporter desperate to find a new Mom willing to call her new little girl "Cherie". Sister 1 was offered money. Sister 1 told the reporter to "Bugger Off". My Niece was named after her two Grandmothers'. If my Niece had been a Nephew, he would have been named after his two Grandfathers'. The Pynchon's are always named after previous family members. I am named after my two Grandfathers', my Brother is named after my Dad's Uncle and my Dad's younger Brother, and so on and so forth.
Great night. Happy times. My Brother and I stayed up all night drinking, watching the election results roll in. We saw David Mellor and Michael Portillo lose their seats. Sweet revenge. Fucking Tories. At 4am we got the phone call that we were now Uncles.
The pair of us had nuclear hangovers the next day.
Later, having sobered up, my Brother and I were just leaving the house to go to the hospital when a taxi drew up and Lorraine got out. It was unexpected. That morning she had been in Nottingham, while I was in Birmingham. At least that's what I thought.
Lorraine was wearing a yellow dress and she looked beautiful. She said that she wanted to be there when I met my Niece, and she was.
Later Lorraine and I went back to Nottingham and to her bed.
The sun was shining and the future was unwritten.
Sister 1 told me that one of her first visitors, in the early hours, was a reporter desperate to find a new Mom willing to call her new little girl "Cherie". Sister 1 was offered money. Sister 1 told the reporter to "Bugger Off". My Niece was named after her two Grandmothers'. If my Niece had been a Nephew, he would have been named after his two Grandfathers'. The Pynchon's are always named after previous family members. I am named after my two Grandfathers', my Brother is named after my Dad's Uncle and my Dad's younger Brother, and so on and so forth.
Great night. Happy times. My Brother and I stayed up all night drinking, watching the election results roll in. We saw David Mellor and Michael Portillo lose their seats. Sweet revenge. Fucking Tories. At 4am we got the phone call that we were now Uncles.
The pair of us had nuclear hangovers the next day.
Later, having sobered up, my Brother and I were just leaving the house to go to the hospital when a taxi drew up and Lorraine got out. It was unexpected. That morning she had been in Nottingham, while I was in Birmingham. At least that's what I thought.
Lorraine was wearing a yellow dress and she looked beautiful. She said that she wanted to be there when I met my Niece, and she was.
Later Lorraine and I went back to Nottingham and to her bed.
The sun was shining and the future was unwritten.
# posted by Pynchon @ 10:14 pm 
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Wow, that's a bittersweet post. Happy birthday to your niece. I would have taken the reporters money and changed rhe kids name later.
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