Years ago, I was hanging out with my gay boyfriend, Scotty. Scotty is a medical professional, and so, the only person I talk STDs with. We agreed that syphilis was kind of a hideous word and that it should be renamed something cuter. We renamed it Cooper.
Fast forward a few years. I was working as an intern at the Taste of Minnesota festival. The Gold N Plump Chicken people were there, handing out little beanie chickens with a name tag that read, "Hi. My name is Cooper." Of course, I snatched them up, gave one to Scotty, one to my sister (she'd heard the story. She hears all my stories.) and I kept one to myself. Ne Ne, the sister, still has hers, hanging in her kitchen.
Fast forward a couple more years to March, 2008. I had just gotten home from my second time running away to join the circus. 4 days after my return, my grandma died. We were sitting in her kitchen, all a little numb. I walked into her living room and there, inside the large brandy snifter that sat on her bookshelf, was Cooper. I immediately texted my sister, "Grandma's got Cooper." She, of course, replied with "What? How did she get Cooper?" And my response was, "I imagine, the same way you did."
Fast forward a couple days later, at Grandma's house after the wake. All of my cousins are sitting around, quietly mourning. My sister, again, asked me about Cooper, so I liberated him from his brandy snifter and told the story, the one I just told you, to all of my cousins. They immediately decided to turn "Cooper" into a tribute to Grandma, Shouting the name of a syphilitic chicken and raising our beers high in the air. It's how we mourn.
Fast forward one more time. Probate is an ugly, ugly thing, My mom and her siblings spent months fighting over the contents of Grandma's house. We were not allowed to remove anything until it had all been inventoried, not even little stuffed chickens. So we sneaked in one day and liberated Cooper from his perch. My mom made chatty small talk with the relative everyone hates, to distract him from the chicken pilfering in the next room.
Now, he's my traveling gnome. Wherever I go where someone could benefit from Cooper's story, or wherever I go when I travel for fun or work, he comes along and takes photos. He has his own Facebook page. You're probably on it.
