The Tale of My Moose-ness

With the recent addition of "Max" to my family, many of you have asked for an explanation of my nickname and subsequent affiliation with moose. The most common response I get when people ask me my nickname and I answer with "Moose" is "What? You? Your nickname is Moose?" I'm not the stereotypical, no-neck, muscle head "Moose" most people picture.

It all started with my grandmother. As a child, I traveled a great deal with my grandparents during the summers. A town of 300 people does not offer much in the lines of entertainment. So if they were going somewhere I often went with...most often to Duluth, MN to see my aunt or to Nebraska to see my grandpa's family. However, there was always one trip I never got to make with them. My parents had this "thing" about me missing school.

Every September my grandparents would drive to Maine to see the fall colors and visit my grandmother's family. Mom and Dad would not let me accompany my grandparent's on this trip because it typically fell within the first couple weeks of the school year. SO, grandma and grandpa would leave town without me and grandma would return with some stuffed moose or sweatshirt with a moose on it for me when they returned.

I made a last minute decision about college and ended up in Montana. Moose are a big deal in the mountains there as well. Rarely seen, a treat when you do see them, and fierce as all get out if you surprise them. My college roommate had a thing for cows, and a long week of studying before finals led to another friend getting a lion associated nickname. My moose collection and my desire to see a real moose led to my nickname.

My maiden name was pronounced "call" so when I made up my first email address I decided on what is pronounced "moose call". That stuck pretty good. Then on another long night durinig college some joke got make about Moose kisses. That stuck too. My collection of moose "things" continued to expand. I also began to develop a "relationship" with the moose. They are a bit awkward in appearance, one would not expect them to be as fast or as graceful as they are. They can be very allusive and aloft but make them mad and you are going to get it in the end. There was something about their personality which I found in myself.

All my summers in Duluth exposed me to an artist who has a gallery in Canal Park. It is from her work that I found my inspiration for Max. This is one of her pieces entitled, "Hind Sight". The blues and greens underneath his chin are what I drew my color scheme from. This past Christmas my aunt also bought me one of her prints, "Every where that Morey went..."


The remainder of the tattoo is a tribute to my mother. Her name was Maxine and this October she lost a 6 and a half year battle with ovarian cancer. Her nicknames were "Max" or "Maxie". I didn't quite know how to put "Maxie" into a tattoo and explain it so I went with "Max" since that was her more common nickname.

Why fly all the way to Montana to get the ink? A few year's back Os told me about his friend Chris. A few year's after that I got to meet her. Now she has her own tattoo shop and I knew I wanted her to do it in a place where I feel at home and surrounded by my friends. Hence my appointment last week Saturday at Ms. B's Island Ink.

There, you have the story of my Moose-ness.