NEW CASTLE —
Many many years ago, I had a friend named Pam, who worked for a magnetic sign company.
Pam presented me one day with a license-plate sized magnetic sign that she had made. It read, "GARY GROWER."
I stuck the sign on my desk.
Bob McCracken, who was doing promotions for Weingartner’s at the time, saw the sign, and started referring to me as Gary the Grower.
The name sort of stuck.
In the twilight years of my life, my occupation has changed.
Growing plants had it challenges. I now find it much easier to write about them.
Thus you ask, "Are you going to change your name to Gary the Writer?"
I doubt that will happen.
Being Gary the Grower sounds right. Being Gary the Writer doesn't quite have the same ring to it.
I would need to change my name to Wally, if I wanted a smooth-sounding name and title.
Wally the Writer would be perfect.
Since my wife has trouble remembering my name as it is, I'll probably not change it.
If I did, she would more than likely prefer Ike the Idiot.
Name changes are not unusual in my family.
My mother went from Nellie Margaret to Margaret Nellie.
Out of six kids, I was the only one to discover that my dad's real name was Estell Wayne Church, not Wayne Ernest like he told everyone.
I don't think my sister Evelyn ever knew her original name.
Since I am blogging now, I do have one other choice for a name.
How does Blake the Blogger sound?
When it's dinner time, I don't care if I'm called Blake, Gary, Wally, or Ike — I'll be there.
News Bloggers
Gary Church: Call me anything you like — just make sure to call me for dinner!
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Gary Church: Don’t tell my wife, but I’m talking dirty today
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Josh Drespling: Breakfast for dinner? Yep, as long as I’m makin’ bacon!
A while back I was rummaging through the kitchen tying to figure out what to make for dinner. My daughter was in the the other room complaining that she was hungry and my wife was echoing with the usual, “What are you doing for dinner?”
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‘The Couch Potato’: Thanks to on-demand selections, I can watch classic TV any time
When I was growing up, we weren’t poor. We weren’t rich either, but it’s not like we were barely scraping by. I had my sweet Nike kicks, a comfortable brick ranch and as many snacks as we could handle.
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Gary Church: Dish gardens weren’t exactly a mob hit back in the day
I started working at Welker's Greenhouses back in the early 1960s. Mixing dirt was not the most glamorous job, but I worked my way up in the company. By the mid-’60s, I was promoted to route salesman.
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Lisa Madras: Despite emotional moments, I’m a Big Apple believer to the core
What is your favorite place on Earth? I have an embarrassing secret to share with you. Two weekends ago, I took a bus trip with some of the Jameson Hospital staff to New York City. When we came through the tunnel and saw the city sprawling out before us, I burst into tears.
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Josh Drespling: Students get a summer vacation — what about parents?
About nine months ago, we parents were all prepared to attack the new school year with vigor and determination. We had a new stash of supplies, including the perfect pencils and pens, a crisp new backpack, and all the other wares our children could ever need or want.
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