Archive for May, 2011

May 24th, 2011

Nyfors Name

You can now buy me for $99.  I knew it would happen eventually.  Having an unusual Swedish last name meant that it was only a matter of time before IKEA used it to market something or other.  The other day, my lovely and talented friend Eric Fell pointed out that I am now featured in the new IKEA catalogue.  Yes.  Nyfors is now a lamp.  Its special instructions read much like the person it references.  We both can be made dimmer with the flip of a switch (in my case, the switch is booze);  we both require assembly (in my case, a lot of makeup and hair products);  we both have a base that is much larger than its top.  (in my case, well….enough said about my ass). 

The Nyfors lamp from IKEA

I always thought my surname Nyfors (pronounced N-eye-fours) was easy, but, for some reason, very few people can spell or pronounce it correctly.  All my life, I have been referred to as Knee-fors, Nyfords or (much to the distress of my young overweight self) Knives and Forks.  In Sweden, the name means “new cascade”;  in Canada, it is an improved brand of dishwasher detergent. 

My father also suffered the pains of an unusual name.  He was born Boo Nyfors..  In Sweden, “Boo” means “first born son”;  here in Canada, it is the sound ghosts make.  My dad decided to switch to his second name after giving a speech at a work function.  The host, in order to welcome him to the stage, said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boo Nyfors.”  Of course, some drunk guy in the front row took dad’s name to be a verb and started booing him.  From that point on, dad insisted on being known as Evert or Ev.…..or as 100% of his mail would state, Everest or Eve.

Fortunately, in order to give their daughter an easy ride in Canadian society, my parents chose to give me the sexy cheerleader sounding name of Margret (pronounced by all as Marg-RAT).  Of course, it is spelled the Swedish way because my dad had a huge crush on Ann-Margret.  When I tell people to spell it like Ann-Margret, they say either “Who?” or “Oh…you look nothing like her…why would your parents name you that?” 

Ann-Margret: Yes. I look nothing like her.

To make things  interesting, my parents gave me a middle name that starts with the letter “E” which means that all my monogrammed towels spell “MEN”  – an anagram that constantly gives the wrong impression as to the success of my social life. 

After doing a bit of research on the Nyfors name, I came to realize that there are very few Nyfors People around…..and there are even fewer of us in North America.  But, I do know now that the name Nyfors is a typographical font;  it is a city in Sweden; it is a fibre optics company….and now, it is a lamp.  Even though this name has given me mild grief over the years, I am proud of it.  All the people I know who were born a Nyfors are absolutely wonderful, loving, funny folks.  Okay, Nyfors lamp…make us proud.

May 18th, 2011

The Beaumont

Lately, I had a chance to spend time looking at the old Bow Mac sign on West Broadway. Back in the day, it used to be one of the largest freestanding neon signs in North America and was the brain child of then sales manager, Jimmy Pattison.   It was such a simple and brilliant way to promote the Bow Mac car dealership.  Just put up a freakin’ huge sign.  Boom!  Done.  Everyone for 10 miles around will be able to find them because they can see it!

Currently, the old car lot is now a Toys R U and, since they just slapped their sign over the Bow Mac part, it looks a bit hideous.  Still, I remember that sign with fondness. 

My dad was never one to splurge on anything for himself.  He was always very practical, especially when it came to cars.  If it ran, it was good.  If it didn’t run, you had to replace it with something only slightly better than the car that just died. 

I was very young, but I still remember my dad sighing over pictures of his dream car – a 1966 dark blue Beaumont.  True to my dad’s practical nature, he never dreamed of owning a new car.  Even his dream car was 10 years old.  With my mom’s encouragement, we made the long trip down to Vancouver on a Greyhound so my dad could buy his dream car for sale at the Bow Mac car lot. 

The Beaumont was a solid steel, four doored V8 super charged machine.  Its hood was easily 16 feet in length.  You could put the entire contents of a medium sized Safeway in its trunk.  The trip from Vancouver to Burns Lake usually took 12 hours but in this car we were home in 3.

After my dad bought the car, the rules of behaviour in the Beaumont were implemented. 

  • No food or drinks were allowed
  • All feet must be on the floor
  • Punch buggy was prohibited because it might draw blood, which would stain the floor mats
  • Windows must remain closed at all times when there was a hint of rain or snow…, which in Burns Lake was daily.   
  • No popping the bubbles on the plastic seat protectors no matter how tempting. Surprisingly, this plastic wrap was not in the car when my parents went out on a date…only when my sister and I came along. 

When my dad was teaching me to drive, I could tell he was panicked that he was letting his baby take control of his other baby.  He was always very patient, but the occasional shrieks of “Oh My God…” were a bit distracting.   I am firmly aware that if I had been in a car accident, my dad’s first question would have been about the condition of the car. 

The Beaumont ran for almost 20 years.  The day it had to go to the wreckers was one of the only times I saw my dad cry.  He said he was crying because it meant he would have to spend money on a new car.  But I know that even though he spent his life taking care of us, he felt like a rebel zooming around town in his hot rod car.  I think the irony of it made him young at heart.  Knowing that he allowed himself to splurge on something that made him so happy, makes me smile.  We should all do that for ourselves every once in a while.