So now that we have impressed upon you the great erudition with which we approach our new identity, I'd like to tell you how we, in fact, came upon our new name. Helen and I have agonized for several years over finding a name that would encapsulate a new identity. We went went through a bevy of choices--Chiaroscuro, Salamander, The National Theatre of the United States of America, Slow Boat, Blue Door (our house has a blue door), Orange House (we have an orange house--which looks better than it sounds)... Then came the fateful day when that Eureka! moment struck like a 10-point earthquake--Super Bowl Sunday.
Our friends, the Quinns, invited us over to watch the game. Now Helen and football go together like Chris Christie and Dancing with the Stars, so she declined. There we were seconds to go in the game and Seattle was one yard away from a touchdown that would give them the championship. Then the coach, Pete-what-a-strong-jaw-I-have-Carroll, made the biggest boneheaded decision since George-how-cool-do-I-look-in-my-flight-jacket-Bush decided to invade Iraq. Instead of running Marshawn 'Beast Mode' Lynch right up the gut of the couldn't-stop-him-if-they-had-a-tactile-nuclear-weapon-New England Patriots, Ol' Pete had his poster boy for all that is good and right with America quarterback, Russell Wilson, throw a how-stupid-can-you-be? pass that was intercepted.
Quinn--Jim Quinn--that is, looked at me and said, "That is a black swan event."