And the winner is…me!

OK, I gave you all a chance to come up with a good story about how I got the name “Shoey” and only Rachel Turtledove-Katayanagi was brave enough to make up a story.  I liked her idea that as a youngster I dyed my hair black with shoe polish (similar to the truth when I dyed my hair flamingo pink) and the name Shoe stuck.  But, I was inspired by a super nice guy named Alan for the story that I plan on using for a long time.  Before I tell you the new story of my name, I want to tell you about Alan.  I was painting my new display case on Solano Ave. next to Peet’s Coffee and there was a man hanging out there as so many people tend to do.  We just started yacking about life like I am prone to do.  Turns out, he is a painter, a bike rider and a pretty nice soul.  Somehow the conversation turned to the origin of my name and I asked him for a story idea.  Honestly, I don’t remember his version but my idea of the story I’m starting to tell people was born.  And so, here it goes…

My dad had many passions including skiing, flying his airplane, driving his red convertible Pontiac fast on Pacific Coast Highway and betting on the horse races.  Sometimes he was lucky and won a few bucks on the horses.  When my mom was pregnant with me, my dad felt especially lucky and bold.  He plunked down a big bet on a horse to win in the 3rd…and he won!   The jockey was none other than Willie Shoemaker.   My parents were so indebted to “The Shoe” for their new found wealth that they named me after him.

And that’s the story I’ll happily tell you or anyone else who poses the question, “Hmm, Shoey, what an unusual name. Is that your real name?”

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3 thoughts on “And the winner is…me!

  1. Cute story… I’d definitely buy it! So now that you have the story, what are you giving yourself as your prize? =)

  2. Hmmmm, growing up I was always told the reason for your name came from the day you were born. Your mother is such an incredible fashonista (always has been) that even 9 months pregnant and ready to pop, she was out roaming Ventura Blvd. looking at the local Thom McCan for the hottest conservative leather casual shoes when low and behold her water broke! What to do, what to do?? Fortunately for you and your mom, Andre – the man with the shoe horn was spending his nights at the Merinelo school of nursing and was able to take charge! He cracked open a clean pair of socks from the display rack (they didn’t have fresh towels) and cleared a space for your mom to lay down. After thirty minutes of labor Andre helped you into the world. Now here is where it gets good – he had his assistant manager Lola go and get a shoe box from a size 13 pair of penny loafers. He carefully wrapped you up in that tissue paper that is in the shoebox and put you all nice and cozy in the box, handing it back to your mom. She looked down at you and said – “Oh my little Shoey”! That’s my story and I am sticking with it.

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