The community here at Sweet Mother is so good.  So good.  It is part all-hands-in Amish barn building and part communal-commiseration, bitch-fest.  It is not all due to me.  A lot of it has to do with you.  As a way to pay back my oh so wonderful readers and new blogger friends out there, Mother is introducing the “Reggies List”.  It’s like a blogroll, only more high on itself.  Today, I will introduce our first “Reggie” – the requirements are simple.  You read this blog regularly.  You have a blog.  You post things on that blog regularly.  And, lastly, but probably most important – you believe in good colon health.  Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you…

Bill McMorrow

As Bill states, "This is my head on the body of Raymond Babbitt." You know, people, Rain Man.

This is NOT Bill. Bill is way cooler.

Bill hails from the Boston area.  Bill is a blogger.  Bill is WICKED cool.  (That’s right I said Wicked!  Where are Matt Damon and Ben Affleck?)  Bill is also a Mc.  Now, I don’t mean that as a derogatory term for the Irish or that he is an emcee.  He is, quite literally, an Mc, as indicated by his name – McMorrow.  I love names and their histories and as I was doing the research for this piece, I came across the etymology of Bill’s last name.  You’d be amazed at what you can find when trolling the Irish-American Heritage Hall of Ridiculous Records, just amazed.  I found this written history there.

The McMorrow clan originates in a small Irish village.  Their surname originally started as Mc.  It wasn’t until the 4th century that a fellow from the Mc clan (this is one of Bill’s relatives) was given an extension to his moniker.  The records indicate that the following conversation(s) led up to the McMorrow name elongation.

Villager 1:  Mc, will you come around and help me with my fence?

Bill’s relative:  ‘Morrow.

Villager 2:  Mc, will you come around and see the baby?

Bill’s relative:  ‘Morrow.

Villager 3:  Mc, your admission fee is due for the Callaghan Tavern Poetry Slam.  Can you pay that?

Bill’s relative:  ‘Morrow.

The records then indicate that the Villagers had a talk behind Mc’s back where they said things like, “That Mc fellow is always saying, ‘Morrow.”  This sentence went round and round the village like a game of telephone.  It was the most enjoyed extracurricular activity of the village, since it was the 4th century and no one had access to a DVR or Playstation.  Naturally, by the fifth time the sentence made its pass through the Village Square, it developed into, “Has anyone seen McMorrow?”  Today and forever more, the Mcs are known as the McMorrows.  History is fascinating, isn’t it?

Even more fascinating than Bill’s lineage, is Bill himself.  Bill drives a forklift.  I picture him waking up each morning in Boston, grabbing a cup of coffee, and his smartphone.  He sets off for work.  (Bill, of course, reads Sweet Mother while he’s on the job, as I encourage everyone to do so.)  Bill’s forklift job takes place at an enormous clothing heap warehouse.  His job is to take quantities of the vintage clothing off of the clothing heap and drive that poundage over to the conveyor belt.  At the belt it is sorted and packaged.  From there it is sent off to Hipster Villages throughout Massachusetts where ultimately skinny men will give their right man-part for a perfectly worn Atari t-shirt.  Rightfully so, Bill has become disillusioned by his part in the vintage clothing food-chain.

Reading Sweet Mother has changed him, though.  Recently he started skimming a pull or two off of the clothing heap.  Every third extraction Bill takes the clothing poundage and dumps it in a waiting mini-van.  The mini-van takes that portion of clothing to Chinatown where it is sold to blind people as knock-off Michael Korrs.  Bill takes about 40% of the profits.  20% he gives to charity.  The other 20% he throws back into his blog.  I have started to call Bill’s one-man movement where he skims the vintage clothing off the clothing heap and sells it for a profit – OCCUPY NOSTALGIA.  His blog is most certainly right in step with such a movement.

There you can find unbelievably enjoyable posts where Bill talks about watching the entire Faces of Death marathon and living to tell about it.  An unbelievably hysterical video highlighting the troubles of an America-Canada border patrol professional.  And a sparkly post dissecting the positive qualities of musicians who fall under the “one hit wonder” category.

I like reading Bill’s stuff and you will too.  He’s a good guy.  A funny guy.  An enjoyable guy (with a forklift license!) and if I have any readers left here at all, I say to you – FOLLOW HIM TODAY.  FOLLOW HIM RIGHT NOW.  Not ‘Morrow.  Today.

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Want to become a Reggie?  Read and comment here, that’s a start!

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