At McCool's Speakeasy, she's offering up the 2001 virtual version of the speakeasies of Prohibition. Open 24 hours, no prohibition here. Always entertaining, not always coherent, this after hours joint is your number 1 spot for pop-cultural speculation. Tonight at McCool's Speakeasy she's serving up the waitress rant in 6 juicy parts. From Quentin Tarrantino Tipping Theory to Waitress Fantasies, join in and don't forget to tell her that avivalasvegas sent you.
McCool's Speakeasy
What's In A Name
So I went to see 'Snatch' (great movie, a must-see!), with
my boyfriend and we're watching the previews - one of which
is about this hot chick whose seemingly enticing all these
guys and then screwing them over - and I'm thinkin': 'O.K.
this seems like an alright idea for a flick', then right at
the end of the preview the title of the movie is displayed
and it reads:
'One Night At McCool's'
Simultaneously, my boyfriend and I look at each other and
burst out laughing. Why? Because 'McCool' is not only the
name of this Speakeasy, it's also my last name!!! And damn
proud of it, I am. Wouldn't you be?
Hell, it's the name that dominated my first name in my teens.
It is the name that people take notice of, question even:
'Is that your real name, man?' It is a name that becomes me,
(I have been told!) and I do believe I have become it. For
certain, it's a name to live up to. Hence, this brief dedication
to my name. Aw! Shucks!
A Brief McHistory
I suppose it came to be my last name when my parents first
met many moons ago. My mom was set up with my dad by my aunt
(dad's sister) - who was married at the time and thus, divorced
of her last name, how could she?
When my aunt told my mom my dad's full name: 'Len McCool',
having never heard it before, my mom exclaimed (or so the
story goes): 'Oh! What a great name! I would love to have
a name like that!' Only to find out a short nine months later
(and not because of a baby either!) it would be her name and
then after some time my name. Yay!
McCool is an Irish name, something else I am proud of having
been to Ireland a few times now and always longing to go back.
My McCool Irish ancestry originates in Donegal. I specify
'McCool' Irish ancestry because I have been lucky enough to
inherit Irish ancestry from both my Mom and Dad.
In fact, if my Mom had kept her 'maiden' name: 'Power' (which
originates in Waterford, Ireland), my name would have been:
'Power-McCool'!!!
Can you imagine? Just when you thought it couldn't get any
better!
More McMythical History
To my surprise when visiting Northern Ireland (a lovely
country despite it's reputation), I learnt that 'McCool' is
also the last name of a mythical Irish hero: 'Finn McCool'.
The myths reveal that Finn was a 'good' giant famous for
fighting off 'bad' giants as well as building a bridge made
of boulders. It is believed that at one time this bridge of
boulders connected Scotland and Ireland and later washed away
by the sea, resulted in 'The Giant's Causeway'.
For those not familiar with the Causeway, considered one
of the seven wonders of the world, it consists of a group
of geometrically shaped rocks (that do look manmade!) found
along the Northern Irish Coast of County Antrim. If you are
fortunate enough to visit there like I was, you could see
these rocks and read all about 'Finn' in the mini-museum that
pays tribute to him.
And Your Point Is...
So to answer the question: 'What's in a name?' Well that
all depends on YOU! In the words of the ever so poignant Margaret
Atwood, I too believe: 'a name is not just a label but a container'.
Some people change their name because they feel as if they
dislike or have outgrown what it contains. Some people change
it because it is what society dictates. Some because they
have some extra cash to throw around, I do not really know.
In my case, my name contains a lot that is dear to me: my
Irish heritage, my parent's union (as strong as ever today),
my family's existence, my McCool-ness.
Who knows? Maybe I would feel differently if my name was
'McPooh' but the point is it is not. As it stands, giving
up my name would be equivalent to throwing out a treasure
chest. Needless to say, I plan never to let this happen! No
matter how many men (or women?) come a knockin' (and it's
not that there aren't any...at all...ever) it is safe to say
this treasure chest is mine all mine for keeps.
Phew! As for the movie, if my name manages to get me in for free (hell, it is worth a try!), I will let you know how it was.
Contact the speakeasy at 5a7@avivalasvegas.com. Make sure to put McCool's Speakeasy in the subject line.
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