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Where did the name come from?

As a young girl growing up in Southwestern Michigan, I knew the difference between my parents and other kid’s parents.  Of course, I couldn’t recognize all of the nuances until I grew older.  As an only child of parents that gave birth to me when they were 45 and 55 respectively, I was adored.  My father would take me into the bathroom for the “wait until your Father gets home” spanking and tell me to yell as loudly as I could while he clapped his hands!

My mother, a bottle blond for as long as I can remember, decided when I was eleven, I too had the calling for lighter locks.  Summer Blond was all the rage, so at that early age, I became my Mother.  A life long blond.

My Mother was a terrific typist.  She could bang those keys without mistakes faster than a machine gun.  She was defined by her career BC (before Carol) and was a feminist before the word hit the most used words of 1954.  A nerve in her hand had been damaged so it made her handwriting look ancient and difficult to read.  Whilst head of the typing pool for the Governor of Michigan in the 40’s, she perfected the art.

In seventh grade she made me take typing, and I intensely disliked her for this at the time.  There were many more times that I intensely disliked her while I was growing up, yet the typing has served me well.  I did thank her.

Love,

Blond Typewriter
Freelance writer