Since we are solace for one another, how's about we tell the story of our names?
Last edited Mon Jul 22, 2024, 06:53 PM - Edit history (3)
Update: I'm thankful for every reply! Am responding as I am able, it's taking longer than I thought, between emergencies. Sending you all love and aloha. So much has changed in a couple of days! Imua, onward...
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I’ll start -
Mahina is the Hawaiian word for moon, which is glowing in a dark blue sky with blue- white tall clouds here many nights. My favorite night each month is the day before full moon rise, when the moon comes up in a blue sky. It reflects in silver on the blue ocean and it is gloriously beautiful to swim in its reflection.
When I was a baby my great grandmother would walk me outdoors and we would talk with the moon. I made my name in lower case as it is a noun.
What is the meaning of your DU name?
PS, I Truly believe that by November the lights will be turned back on again and people in this country will understand and vote for the Democratic ticket. My hope and prayer is that’s for Joe.
Stout hearts, as Will would say.
= new reply since forum marked as read
✌🏻
I want to laugh too, someone explain. 
And I won't type in the rest so you can have fun solving it. 
Response to proud patriot (Reply #100)
How's Hawaii ???
I've been visiting South Dakota for a couple of months ,
I head back home to Hawaai the day after Tomorrow
Hawaii is calling and I must go !
Throwing a Frisbee in GG Park.
Margaritas on Valencia St. during the march.
You’re going to heaven, if there is one 
Music teachers are a powerful force for good in this world.
Images of Florida
https://thebaffler.com/latest/the-infinite-previous-hofmann
THE SOUTHERNMOST OF THE CONTINENTAL UNITED STATES, the so-called Lower Forty-eight. Where better shoot for space, publicly or now privately, than from the flattest and lowest and most unstable of them all, its highest point barely a hundred yards up in the soggy air? A plump peninsular dangle haunted by the promise of its physical (dis)appearance decades hence, or, the way things are going, sooner than that—shrunk to bone (it has no bone, there is no bone), hence merely atrophied and shortened to a carious stumpy shrivel or wizen, ending at maybe Orlando, all the rest taken back by the Atlantic and the Gulf. And presumably still impeccably gerrymandered. Well, easy come, easy go, as is not—but might as well be—the state’s motto (which, if you must know, is “In God We Trust”).
From the air, it is cities, bays, jungle, and mottling—what the booksellers call foxing—like a form of rot; a level scape of little mushrooms on blotting paper; a pointillist blotch; the dotting of millions or billions of lakes and ponds among the slabs of forest and field and just swampy spare ground waiting to appreciate; the round clumps of “tree islands,” sometimes called “hammocks” in the palmetto and vine scrub; sinkholes as much a possibility as mobile homes, like the holes in Swiss cheese, sinkholes popping up—popping down—in the porous limestone when the sand plugging them abruptly drains out of them. Gridded by highways meeting at infinity, and then the plops of the round ponds. Round and straight, round and straight, like so many noughts and crosses. Inadequate separation of earth and water, the world as if God had thrown in the towel after Day Two. (And when it teems with bouncing white rain, Day One.) Brown when wet, tan when dry, gray when grown over by the duopoly of pines and palms. Dark wiggling meanders (where is the gradient that would straighten them out or speed them up?), the color of tea from the amount of leaf matter swilled out of the sandy ground, and old white dead straight—no, not authors—roads, silver in the sun, made from sand or crushed shells.
Water is a constant—or rather, an inconstant—mystery, our own prairie that half the time is a lake (we think of it as something like Zola’s Le ventre de Paris, a frenzied frog-eat-frog mutual gourmandize among water-, earth-, and air-creatures); water filling up the underground limestone caverns and spilling out of them at great pressure and purity in the springs of the Santa Fe and the Suwanee (the rights to extract and bottle billions of gallons of it obtained for a pittance by Coca Cola and others), and disappearing to leave behind aridity, sand, and death. So flat, so soft, so rootless, so yielding, so accommodating to invasives and (some) incomers, the pet boa constrictor unspooling out of the toilet, the armadillo hoofing it up from Texas at the rate of a few yards a year, the Cuban migrant crawling ashore, wet-foot or dry-foot, the armed and dangerous jail-break making a beeline for us, the totemic beasts we are known for and are sentimentally pleased to slap on our license plates—the Florida panther, the manatee—imperiled and all-but-gone; a landscape formed by bulldozer as by butter knife from the flat, resistless, featureless plain; no hill, no rock, no soil, slash pines cleared into heaps and middens to make space for new condo developments, with natural or British-sounding or misspelt tony names (the flamingoes or magnolias that were driven away to make this), where an influx of disappointed new or hopeful old people can dwell in brief comfort in system-built high-rise among the low-rise, cheek by jowl with their cars.
We are perhaps used to thinking of the clash of nature and culture; in Florida, there is no culture, no landscape that leaves a stable record of the effects of human settlement. It is more garish, more conflictual than that, more primal or more modern. It is the clash of nature and money. Subtropical nature and hot money, at that, or at the very least, warm, humid, sweaty money. Pecunia maybe doesn’t olet, but it sudet. The waves of greed and panic, panic buying, panic selling, the land booms and real estate busts, remote ownership, in-your-face ownership; railway barons and cattle barons and trumpery barons; the South a more troubled, less idyllic, less familiar, less idealized version of the West, at best, it’s “go South, old man,” or “Florida and bust!” A less favored version of California, without the rich farmland of Central Valley or the corn of Hollywood or a swamp to call Silicon; a state where things somehow didn’t take as well or as dependably, second in cattle, second in oranges, Florida permanently prox. acc., (though for all our other curses, we don’t have earthquakes; they have the Big One, we have lots of Little Ones, not earthquakes, but all manner of other plagues and pestilences).
snip
Happy Socks is a Swedish manufacturer and retailer of socks, underwear, and swimwear. The company was founded in 2008 by Mikael Söderlindh and Viktor Tell who respectively took on the roles as CEO and creative director. In 2017, Palamon Capital Partners acquired the majority share and Stefan Fragner became CEO. Their merchandise is sold in 90-plus countries, with 12,000 points of sale, as well as online, and over 100 Happy Socks stores.
In addition to its headquarters in central Stockholm, Sweden, in 2018, the company opened its first office abroad in New York City, followed by an office in Munich, Germany in January 2019 in order to operate all wholesale accounts directly.
From Wikipedia:
Usonia is a word that was used by the American architect Frank Lloyd Wright to refer to the United States in general (in preference over America), and more specifically to his vision for the landscape of the country, including the planning of cities and the architecture of buildings. Wright proposed the use of the adjective Usonian to describe the particular New World character of the American landscape as distinct and free of previous architectural conventions.
...
The word Usonian appears to have been coined by James Duff Law, a Scottish[4] writer born in 1865. In a miscellaneous collection, Here and There in Two Hemispheres (1903), Law quoted a letter of his own (dated June 18, 1903) that begins "We of the United States, in justice to Canadians and Mexicans, have no right to use the title 'Americans' when referring to matters pertaining exclusively to ourselves." He went on to acknowledge that some author had proposed "Usona" (United States of North America), but that he preferred the form "Usonia"
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I like that. The good people of Canada, Mexico and other North American countries would be a blessed relief from magats.
Other meanings are secretive and if I told you, then you'd have to shred yourself on the way out.
Mine is meh. I'm from Georgia and a big Georgia Bulldogs (i.e., "Dawgs"
fan. I've also never voted for a Republican, so it made it obvious. GaYellowDawg.
Their birth was a major event in the family. Plus, I thought that the name sounded good.
Nice, but I miss the days of them crawling over each other.
They're why I have faith in the younger generation.
That makes me a great-great-great uncle of twins!
The triplets aren't quite there yet, but one is moving in his his girlfriend next week. So we shall see.
Stoner???
He was left out of the movies, so I adopted his name as a tribute. Here's a description: "Glorfindel was tall and straight; his hair was of shining gold, his face fair and young and fearless and full of joy; his eyes were bright and keen, and his voice like music; on his brow sat wisdom, and in his hand was strength."
Misreading, grammar and spelling errors are my specialty.
Welcome to DU!
my first semester of college at University of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana. He only went for one semester and it's rarely mentioned in his biographies. All the students in Illinois rode the trains back and forth from school to their home. The City of New Orleans was the fast train, that didn't stop at every podunk town like the other trains did. I rode it many many times.
I loved Steve. He was such a good guy. 
I just like the song 
I marvel.
Love reading these explanations. Thanks mahina for creating this post. It shows that we are all people with a common cause.
made sense but it sounds like the Bruins name a few teams use.
Then when I got on the internet it turned out brewens was never used by anyone and almost always available so I'm brewens all over the place. Not brewens1 or anything like that, even on Yahoo. 
Minutemen were an American punk rock band formed in San Pedro, California, in 1980. Composed of guitarist/vocalist D. Boon, bassist/vocalist Mike Watt, and drummer George Hurley, Minutemen recorded four albums and eight EPs before Boon's death in an automobile accident in 1985; the band broke up shortly thereafter. They were noted in the California punk community for a philosophy of "jamming econo"—a sense of thriftiness reflected in their touring and short, tight songs, and for their eclectic style, drawing on hardcore punk, funk, jazz, and other sources.
- wikipedia
When my oldest daughter was around 4 years old (she's now 41), I told her that I didn't love her any more, STUPIDLY thinking that she'd know I didn't mean it and tell me so! Instead, it broke her heart and she burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
When holding and hugging and telling her I didn't mean it had no effect, I told her that if I EVER said anything so silly again, she could look me right in the face and tell me I was full of moose poop!!! And THAT worked -- she was like "Really...?", and I said "Let's try it out -- I don't love you any more!" And she looked me right in the eye and yelled back "YOU'RE FULL OF MOOSE POOP!!!" and broke into gales of laughter. It was like being given permission to swear.
Moosepoop kind of grew out of that, and we still banter back and forth with it to this day.
I signed up with this username in 2005, long before the Sarah Palin debacle.
BYW is was me what had all the toilet paper in 2020z
Whenever I see your username, I think, “I really need to look into this Fort Mill organization. Is this a group I should join? Or is this person wanting us to have solidarity with the citizens of a town called Fort Mill? Is there a Fort Mill Chamber of Commerce I should be supporting?” Now I know!
.... Or maybe its "I See Peace" ☮️
yes indeed
I got "Leith" from the Proclaimer's album Sunshine on Leith. They're the guys who did had the hit song 500 Miles, which I liked so much that I got the album - and every song on it is good.
At the time, I didn't even know that Leith was a city. 
I like your Xavier Breath DU handle. 
But I'll always be Dagstead at heart
I was originally trucker4kerry, but changed in late November 2004. 
However, in one post I did mention a relative who worked in tfg's administration, in the big house. They received info of my DU post and contacted me. Very angry at my posting. How they figured out it was me, who knows? I was deliberately cryptic but got a lot of feedback here with their name and position mentioned. Who these DU posters were who did so much homework, I don't know. It was a relatively simple story, but one that generated a lot of weird feedback. Made me suspect our postings weren't as anonymous as I believed in a tfg administration So changed my name to what I did every year, live in both the north and south. Hello all
Self explanatory
and, mainly, congratulations.
I would attend live blues concerts with a pen and a small notebook in hand. I have always had atrocious penmanship, so my nom de plume was, "The Scribbler." Because I scribbled about blues, bluescribbler seemed to me an obvious choice.