When I was a kid growing up in Northwest Ohio, we attended a local church across town where my parents had met after being fixed up by friends.
It was the late 1960s and a time of great change in this country with regard to civil rights, free love, the drug culture and more — even in the Buckeye State.
My dad was wrapping up a career at the hometown newspaper before starting out on his own and my mom was an elementary school teacher. They were both active in their local unions and loved to bowl.
One of their dearest friends at church was a kind lady named Irma Patchen. I don’t know remember much about her as we moved away when I was 10, but post Hurricane Irma, I can’t stop thinking about her.
You see, you don’t hear the name Irma much anymore. It seems to have gone the way of Myrtle, Bertha and Cleo, only to be replaced by Kaitlyn, Ella and Jasmine. Sure, “I” names are tough to come by, but hey, Irma is a real standout.
I think we once had a chamber member named Irma who was in management at Dadeland Mall, but she came from Texas and did not stick around long. We had a great lunch over delicious sushi, I recall. Now, that’s my kind of Irma.
There was also Erma Bombeck (also a native of Ohio), noted humorist and author, but she spelled her name with an E. So, of course, that leaves our own egregious Irma standing alone, a Cat 5 terror that held Florida hostage for more days prior, and now weeks after her arrival.
If she was a houseguest, we would have thrown her out long ago. But alas, she was the kind of Irma who was chronically late, missed her turn on the way over and left a complete disaster in her wake.
Mrs. Patchen was nothing of the sort — not one thing blustery or menacing about her. I think she and her husband used to double date with my parents during their courtship as you always needed an older chaperone around in the 1960s.
And so, we had to wait 50 years for a new Irma to come around. I would guess that you all might agree that we could have waited a bit longer — as in forever. Oh, Irma, this is how you choose to make your triumphant return?
Erma Bombeck’s best seller — If Life Is a Bowl of Cherries, What Am I Doing in the Pits? — took a quirky view of the many things in life that are oftentimes out of our control, like the weather or gas prices or lack of electricity in your home.
Too soon? Well, not for Erma or Irma. No subject was off limits, no tree unscathed.
Now, it is needless to say, I know many more Maria’s than I do Irma’s, so I need to pretty much shut that down right now and let every Maria in my life I know that I will be in contact with them well into the future.
That means not even watching the Sound of Music, because we just might need to solve a problem like Maria!
No hard feelings, Marias (or Lees or Normas or Otis), I just need to make sure we dodge this bullet even more than the last one.
Right, Irma?
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