(A) A bookish or socially unskilled person.
(B) Someone who is overtly nerdy, geeky or bookish.
(C) The nerdy young nephew of The Professor, Felix the Cat's archenemy and bad guy scientist.
(D) Deceased U.S. Senator from the State of Washington, former resident ghost of our farmhouse.
I hope that in the future, like today, people who Google, Yahoo, Bing or whatever "Pannabecker" don't find a definition like the first two, although in a weak moment I might admit it would be appropriate. I'd prefer "an eclectic friend" or something like that.
"Why Poindexter?" Virginia sets me up.
Because Miles Poindexter, sometimes pronounced "pawndextuh," grew up in our house and then moved to Walla Walla, Washington, where he practiced law. Drawn to Spokane to be a prosecuting attorney and judge, he was elected as a Republican to the U.S. Congress and, in 1910, to the U.S. Senate. From 1923 to 1928 he served as U.S. Ambassador to Peru, where he was reportedly known for partying and being popular among the fairer sex. He lost a bid for the U.S. Senate in 1928 and returned to Elk Cliff Farm where he died on September 21, 1946.
That reminds me. I must build a classy sign to post near our driveway: "Elk Cliff Farm."
Since we moved here, several members of the Poindexter family have dropped in. Today it was Miles Poindexter, III, the original Miles Poindexter's great-great-nephew, returning to Florida after captaining a "rich guy's yacht" to Maine for the summer.
When I look back thirty years
I wonder how I got here.
I did not expect my future,
I did not plan it.
I knew the dreams I had were fiction,
professional basketball player,
Supreme Court justice,
father of six or seven.
My short-term goals were something less,
chosen just before each gentle turn
I charged with focus down the line.
Then something happened,
I shifted right, then left, then right again,
and I landed exactly
where I wish I had dreamed
I would be today.