Speaking of the New Hebrides, and we were -- though this post really has nothing to do with the New Hebrides, I just like saying that name -- my as-yet unsainted mother, God bless her, had a habit during my childhood and adolescence, a habit I understand she picked up from her own mother, i.e., my sainted Irish grandmother, of telling my siblings and I, on mornings when we weren’t exactly looking our absolute best, “You look like the wreck of the Hesperus!”
I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but it didn’t sound good. And now that I understand the reference incorporated in that tasty little aside, I’m really quite sure it’s not good. But it is funny.
She also had a penchant for saying, “You look like who did it and ran!” and “You look like Ish Kabibble!”
And the odd thing is that when Ish Kabibble -- who, it turns out, was a real person -- died, the New York Times published a photograph along with his obituary, and my brother P.M.C. (as opposed to my brother P.R.C.) really did resemble Ish Kabibble.
Oh, that reminds me. Time to make another therapy appointment.
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