After all, he couldn’t be serious with his first pick.
About a month after the cello came home I had a funny dream. Sitting on the stand in a bare room was the new cello. The room was brightly, though indirectly, lit and the red cast to the varnish had a particularly rosy warm glow.
Then I heard a name, as distinctly as if someone had spoken into my ear: “Raúl.”
I woke up and sat up half expecting to find TBF downstairs on the phone having a conversation (with or about someone named Raúl) but the house was silent. All day the dream stuck with me until I finally admitted to myself what I think it meant: the cello had named himself Raúl.
What followed me sound a little nutty (as if the blush weren’t already off THAT particular rose). I had a mental conversation with the cello about his choice in names. You may have seen a few of these exchanges on Twitter.
It’s not that I had anything against the name – it just wasn’t what I would have picked. I mean, really…Raúl? I mean, for pete’s sake it’s the Spanish version of Ralph – a name I can’t even think of without an instant association with Ralphie from the Simpsons.
Try as I might, it hasn’t gone away. Heaven help me, I caught myself practicing the saying the name in my car on my way home the other day. If you roll the ‘r,” stretch the ‘u’ and wiggle your eyebrows just right and it even sounds a little sexy.
And etymology of the name IS impressive. With a meaning like “wolf council” it’s pretty hard to poke fun.
So, Raúl it is. Looked at one way, it seems a fitting tribute to my Spanish heritage.
In the end, when your cello names himself Raúl, there’s not too much you can do but learn to wiggle your eyebrows just right, so it sounds a little sexy.