What's in a name? Everything. At the conclusion of the Civil War African Americans were freed from their White owners and were allowed to take last names for the first time in the American South becoming true Americans. Having a last name meant having an identity to call their own. When you think of the name you were given, it is hard to imagine yourself being called by any other name. Growing up I thought my name, Carol, seemed too "old," but that is who I was and who I became. I am Carol. Often times names stir emotion or memories of days gone by; you here the name of the first boy you had a crush on and you smile; the name of the first boy who broke your heart brings back a slight sadness; the name of a bully in school can make your blood boil; names fit people and people fit names.
The time came in my life that I would actually get to pick a name as my alter-ego for the purpose of playing roller derby. It was not an easy choice. I wanted something that defined me and had meaning. I thought of the things that define me as a person; swimmer, brave, risk-taker, dare devil, etc. My friends also thought of the things they knew me as to come up with my name, and out came "Cannonball-Z." Several things go into this name that means so much to me. I spent nearly five years in Japan where I fell in love with the Japanese people and culture which brings in reference number one, "Dragonball-Z" a Japanese Anime character. Swimming also had to be a part of the name because I have swam my entire life and practically have gills, enter reference number 2-Cannonball (you know the thing you do when you jump off the diving board trying to make a huge splash). The Cannonball reference is not only a water reference, but also has to do with the huge splash that I hope to make in the derby world one day. Finally there is the part of me that is daring enough to do things like move to Japan, play roller derby, sky dive in Australia, climb Mt. Fuji twice, snowboard in the Japanese Mountains, fling myself over the 18 meter waterfall in an icy cold river…I am "Ball-Z" as they call me for short. There you have it so many aspects of who I am rolled into "Cannonball-Z" and now someone is threatening to take it away from me.
Today I received an email from Miss Cannon Doll X from a bank tracked derby team in California who is pretty much demanding that I change my name saying it made it through the registry by accident. Well I'm not sure what the exact protocol for these things is being new to the sport, but I do know my name is legal and registered. I have asked the advice of my league to determine whether or not they want me to change my name to prevent any problems with other leagues/derby girls. It is no disrespect to Cannon Doll X as she is no doubt a tremendous derby player and a good person, but my name is my name and it is who I am now. I will change my name if my league feels it is in the best interest of everyone involved-the new name will be "Stripp'd er Name." BUT if I do end up keeping my name I apologize to Cannon Doll X as I mean her no disrespect...I just don't think our names are similar in sound or meaning. I have no idea what her name means to her, but I'm 99% sure it has nothing to do with Japanese Anime, swimming or being "Ball-Z." I also doubt we will ever be on the same track being that she plays banked track and I play flat track. I hope that if I do ever meet the famed Cannon Doll X we will have a beer and a good laugh.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Three Weeks Without Derby
It has been nearly 3 weeks without roller derby, and I’m starting to feel the itch that is eating away at my insides. No wheels have graced my feet in weeks, my body is turning too mush and my right foot dons a sexy - but open toed in the middle of winter - surgical shoe. The least they could have done is made the thing in a fashionable color with closed toes and a matching one for the right foot…not sooooo much to ask. At least I still have the Derbylegs socks peaking out nicely from the Velcro shoe.
Returning to the drudgery of “the job” today offered a glimmer of hope that I will skate again. As much as I enjoyed spending my days doing Pilates to soothing music, instructing my boyfriend in the fine art of baking pie for Thanksgiving and napping with my cats the return to work symbolizes that I am in fact recovering from the procedure on the “Tired Diver Toe.” With each hobble step I take I feel slightly less pain and tingling and a little stronger.
Thursday is the day the doc will snip the strings out of the wound that have been binding it together for the past 3 and a half weeks. What this means to me is first and foremost-a real shower without a plastic bag taped to my leg with a lot of athletic tape. I might stand in the shower rather than using the hose type shower thing while sitting like a crotchety (funny word eh?) old lady in the bottom of my tub. I may exit the shower without using the safety bar that was undoubtedly installed by the elderly man who owned my home before me-handy that I bought the house with the safety bar. It made me chuckle when I first saw it, now I see it is no laughing matter as that thing saved me from a tragic fall that would have led to certain death numerous times. How embarrassing would it be to be found dead in the bottom of your tub naked except for the plastic grocery bag taped to your leg…ahem somewhat hairy leg I might ad since shaving has become problematic under the circumstances. At any rate that is not how I intended to die so thanks to the safety bar and my keen ability to balance on one leg, (thank goodness for roller derby balancing drills) I am two days from surviving the one legged showering act.
Other challenges of the “Tired Diver Toe” surgery presented themselves daily. There is the day I insisted I could walk to the back of the store only to find myself back there and unable to walk up to the front. That dilemma was solved with a piggy-back ride to the front of the store…ever tried to hop up onto someone’s back when you can’t hop? It turns out it is more of a flop and a struggle to get into position for a piggy-back ride when you can’t hop. Or how bout the day I wanted to get to the store, but walking seemed such a challenge that I climbed atop of the little car that is on the front of the cart for children and was pushed to the electric buggy thing that I proceeded to drive quite dangerously throughout the grocery store. They need to issue driver’s licenses and conduct training before allowing people like me to use them. The first week or so I attempted the crutches, but my sore underarms and hands were rebellious to the idea so I thought hopping on one foot could serve a dual purpose-strengthen my left leg while getting me to my destination. I was wrong. I ended up with a twisted ankle and crawling back to the couch where I was often told I belonged during recovery.
All told I’m glad I had the surgery, but even more glad that my situation is temporary. I know I would learn to adapt and thrive it weren’t, but I thank my lucky stars I don’t have to this time.
I plan to stuff my foot into a skate this weekend and see if I can manage a few laps without too much pain…but what the heck that is what pain killers are for right?
Til Next Time.
Returning to the drudgery of “the job” today offered a glimmer of hope that I will skate again. As much as I enjoyed spending my days doing Pilates to soothing music, instructing my boyfriend in the fine art of baking pie for Thanksgiving and napping with my cats the return to work symbolizes that I am in fact recovering from the procedure on the “Tired Diver Toe.” With each hobble step I take I feel slightly less pain and tingling and a little stronger.
Thursday is the day the doc will snip the strings out of the wound that have been binding it together for the past 3 and a half weeks. What this means to me is first and foremost-a real shower without a plastic bag taped to my leg with a lot of athletic tape. I might stand in the shower rather than using the hose type shower thing while sitting like a crotchety (funny word eh?) old lady in the bottom of my tub. I may exit the shower without using the safety bar that was undoubtedly installed by the elderly man who owned my home before me-handy that I bought the house with the safety bar. It made me chuckle when I first saw it, now I see it is no laughing matter as that thing saved me from a tragic fall that would have led to certain death numerous times. How embarrassing would it be to be found dead in the bottom of your tub naked except for the plastic grocery bag taped to your leg…ahem somewhat hairy leg I might ad since shaving has become problematic under the circumstances. At any rate that is not how I intended to die so thanks to the safety bar and my keen ability to balance on one leg, (thank goodness for roller derby balancing drills) I am two days from surviving the one legged showering act.
Other challenges of the “Tired Diver Toe” surgery presented themselves daily. There is the day I insisted I could walk to the back of the store only to find myself back there and unable to walk up to the front. That dilemma was solved with a piggy-back ride to the front of the store…ever tried to hop up onto someone’s back when you can’t hop? It turns out it is more of a flop and a struggle to get into position for a piggy-back ride when you can’t hop. Or how bout the day I wanted to get to the store, but walking seemed such a challenge that I climbed atop of the little car that is on the front of the cart for children and was pushed to the electric buggy thing that I proceeded to drive quite dangerously throughout the grocery store. They need to issue driver’s licenses and conduct training before allowing people like me to use them. The first week or so I attempted the crutches, but my sore underarms and hands were rebellious to the idea so I thought hopping on one foot could serve a dual purpose-strengthen my left leg while getting me to my destination. I was wrong. I ended up with a twisted ankle and crawling back to the couch where I was often told I belonged during recovery.
All told I’m glad I had the surgery, but even more glad that my situation is temporary. I know I would learn to adapt and thrive it weren’t, but I thank my lucky stars I don’t have to this time.
I plan to stuff my foot into a skate this weekend and see if I can manage a few laps without too much pain…but what the heck that is what pain killers are for right?
Til Next Time.
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