"I come from a family where gravy is considered a beverage."
-Erma Bombeck

It's true that in these days and times parents like to sometimes give their children funny names. Apple, Prince and Brooklyn are a few you might hear.

At least we know what those names mean. Apples are a kind of fruit, a prince is some sort of royalty, and Brooklyn is the place where Jimmy Durante and his old schnozzola grew up.

Occasionally, unusual names slip through. Rumplestilskin, for example.

But no name has ever equaled the odd name of Triplebippleabbledabblekadupledop Smith.

Try it this way: Triple Bipple Abble Dabble Kaduple Dop...

Smith.

His parents, John and Sue, expected triplets. Only there weren't. When the big day came, there was only one boy, so Triplebippleabbledabblekadupledop became his name.

Few people could say it straight-away, and would call him things like, Trabblebabbleboobledooblekadiddlysquat, which he never liked, no matter how sweetly they said it.

His name was so troublesome for his young pals, who never ever got it right, that the phrase, 'trip the tongue' came about.

On the school grounds, naturally, this caused some challenges. Teachers would refer to him simply as 'Smith', though, when they did, if there was any sort of a crowd, three or four people might reply.

As it happened, Trip enjoyed ice cream. Mr. and Mrs. Smith loved taking him out for it. There was a lovely place in town with wooden floors and tables with pictures of giraffes on them. But when the ice cream clerk would call to him with his order, disaster would occur. By the end of it all, no one was happy, so Mr. and Mrs. Smith thought it best just to eat ice cream at home.

What's more, he had a peculiar way of eating it, or drinking it, depending on how you see these sorts of things.

First, he would gather up what he needed to prepare it. Then, of course, the ice cream. Chocolate was his favorite, but would settle for vanilla, or, and only because it is his dad's choice, lettuce ice cream. But, to eat that, he needed a lot of dressing. Italian or French, or Hershey's. Ketchup sometimes, just for change.

Next, he grabbed the sauce, the syrup, and the sprinkles. He found the nuts, the nachos, the nectarines and the noodles. Trip dug out the onions, the oysters and the oregano. He cut, ground and pressed all of this into something that looked like a schmear, but without the cream cheese, and only half as appetizing.

Trip then scraped a few large scoops of ice cream into a bowl and give it a minute or two in the microwave. When it began to steam, he would stir in his non-cream cheese schmear and pour the entire concoction into a tall glass.

"No sundae is complete without a cherry," he would tell anyone around while reaching delicately into a cool jar for the perfect cherry. This immutable truth somehow made sense in the midst of the culinary cacophony he compiled.

Like a painter applying a final brushstroke, Trip would set the slick sweet brined fruit in the exact middle of his drink where it would float briefly before sinking.

"It matters, you know, finishing it this way," said Trip when asked about the sinking cherry.

"I know it is a top-of-the-ice-cream-cherry, even if it is at the bottom. When I get to the bottom, I'll really be at the top. That's what really matters."

No one else liked Trip's favorite dish -- at least not the way he made it. But, remark they would, perhaps, just as excuse to say his name. If you listen carefully on certain playgrounds, you might even hear this rhyme:

Maraschino Cherry

Triplebippleabbledabblekadupledop
Liked his ice cream -- cherry on top.
Maybe chocolate, maybe not,
but Triplebippleabbledabblekadupledop
liked it boiled, like it simmered, liked it hot.
"It goes down faster; I can eat a lot,"
said Triplebippleabbledabblekadupledop,
as he washed his drink down with a pop.
But Triplebippleabbledabblekadupledop
never ate his chocolate yummy cake
because the ice cream gave him a tummy ache.

These are the days in Bluster County which give me the blues, but I would live nowhere else. The sun rises an inch higher here than anywhere else in the world, making every day brighter.

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