Weekend repost. Now that my readership had quadrupled from 2 to 8, it’s time to resurrect some of the old stories and give you new fans a chance to relish my philosophical musings.
Okay, Creepers. I need your help with an enigma. This is regarding the Daley last name and an obvious, yet little used, pun. To be specific, “Daley Bread”. Here’s the situation, or question. If your last name is Daley, you hear a homophone of your last name whenever you pray the Lord’s Prayer. As in “give us this day our daily bread”. Daily bread…Daley bread. Yet, despite the obvious pun, there is a remarkable paucity of bread-related establishments called “Daley Bread”.
You can google it. There is a cafe on Gosfield Street in London, some place in Cincinnati with an inactive Twitter account, some sandwich shop in Manchester, England…and that’s apparently it. (No link provided. You can google it yourself, and if you think I am lying, then you got too much paranoia in you, man).
Per some random site, there were 23,132 individuals in the US with the last name Daley during the 2000 census (citation 1). Not a lot, but enough of us. And per the Bureau of Labor Statistics, there are 167,000 bakers in the United States (citation 2). And there are over 8,800 commercial and retail bakers in the US (citation 3). Now, I am no mathematician outside of old-school poker, but there has got to be enough Daleys and enough bakeries and bakers, much less sandwich shops and bagel shops and whatever else the fuc7 you have for there to be more people who capitalize on the name and open a place called “Daley Bread”.
In fact, my old man, whenever he was deep in his cups (for example, Monday through Sunday, 3 pm until pass-out at 8:30 pm) would frequently say, “Hey, kids! How about I open up a bakery, and we can call it Daley Bread!!!” And we’d all cheer, laughing at ol’ Jack Daley’s joke, dreaming of him actually bringing in money rather than turning it over to some bartender or race track owner. Or losing it all on some get-rich-quick scheme like a Christmas tree farm or some mail order list. My sainted mother crying tears of joy rather than weeping the bitter tears of experience (no citation, but you should seriously go order “Angela’s Ashes” on Amazon, right now. Okay, we’ll make that citation 4). But the tears of joy sh1t I mentioned….that never happened.
So you tell me, what is the story with this Daley Bread fail? I can’t do it because I don’t get up until noon, and bakers have to be at work by maybe 4 am at the latest. But not all Daleys can be layabout alcoholic scum…can we?
There is also some point I was planning to make here about names determining destiny. But to be quite honest, the room is spinning at this point and if I am saying something valid, good for me. If you can’t follow it, then fuc7 you and the horse you rode in on. There is a point, just look (citation 5).
Let me know what you think is the answer in the comments below. And if you have this situation in your life, and ran with it, I REALLY want to hear from you. Like if your last name is Hooker, Plummer, Carpenter, Mehlman, or Taxicabdriver. Or if you truly are Dennis the Dentist (if you don’t get this, you didn’t read Citation 5. It is a serious point).
Citation 1. http://names.mooseroots.com/l/1408/Daley
Citation 2. http://www.bls.gov/ooh/production/bakers.htm
Citation 4. http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps field-keywords=angela%27s+ashes