I saw today that The Fridge (William "The Refrigerator" Perry of the 1980s Chicago Bears) is ill. I hope he gets well.
My Dad likes the Bears. Growing up I remember watching football with him on Sundays and cheering for the team he wanted. So, by default, I liked the Bears. But I genuinely loved The Fridge because of his name. There's just something in nick-naming a person after a household appliance that appeals to a kid's imagination. I pictured him half human, half giant, mechanical apparatus. I wrote stories at school featuring The Fridge, never afraid of rescuing stray cats or children from burning buildings. I thought my second-grade teacher would be so impressed I knew the "name" of a major football player. Somehow, I don't think she was.
All the same, get well Fridge.
My third-grade teacher was genuinely impressed and surprised when my Dad's interests taught me things no one else knew. Mrs. Kelley was going to have us play trivia as a class but decided the questions were too difficult. We all whined together: "Just give us one!" So she did.
She cleared her voice and asked:
Q: Who was the first woman to win an NHRA professional event?
(Well, this was the easiest question in the world!)
Everyday I played with my "blue Shirely Muldowney jeep" in the bathtub or outside. I didn't have an actual toy dragster, so I assigned her the jeep to drive around like a maniac. My Dad actually raced with her, and although he didn't like her as a person, I still thought she was cool because she was a woman doing what only men seemed to do.
I immediately blurted out: "Shirely Muldowney!"
Mrs. Kelley was shocked and looked down at the answer again, finally saying: "That's right. . . . " But by then my classmates had changed their minds; the trivia was too hard after all.
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