Once when I feeling a bit smart-ass-ish, I told an audience at 5th Friday (a secular open-mic thingy that my dad and some friends started in Portland, OR) that I was KaRyn and I was part of the Daley/O'Daly Confusion. It got a good laugh and the name for our family has stuck, showing up on blogs and facebook pages as a way to make light of something kind of funny/ strange that has happened to our family.
You see, a few years ago, my dad legally changed his last name.
But it's not like he changed it from Daley to Brown. He changed it back to the original O'Daly which you'll please notice is only two letters and an apostrophe different from the old (new) name. Originally, my Mom would have none of it and retained the old (new) last name. When they went to church, she was Sister Daley and her husband was Brother O'Daly. Are you confused yet? Eventually, my youngest brother and mom (tired of explaining it to the masses) followed suit and changed their last name to the new (old) last name. We now effectively have 3 O'Daly's and 13 Daleys in my immediate family.
I tell you all of this as a precursor to something kind of awesome. Do you want to know WHY my old man changed his last name? Well, I think it is connected to the reason my Dad, who is a very talented musician is NOT a rockstar today. Wait for it...wait for it...I promise it's going to make sense in a minute:
So, as legend has it, Pop was poised for rockstardom. He had the hair. He had the platform shoes. He had the guitar face and hip gyrations. He also had 5 kids. It's a little bit hard to pursue a dream that requires road trips, late nights and imminent poverty when you've got a wife and lots of cereal eaters at home. And so, a sacrafice was born. I don't know all the mechanics of my parents early years and what went into his decisions but knowing my dad, there had to have been an element of goodness and prayer involved. That doesn't mean he let it go effortlessly...I mean, there were all those hours of amplified guitar riffs in our faces while we tried to watch KIDS Incorporated and more than a few nights when we thought he loved his guitar more than us. But did he really? Obviously not. There are plenty of Lifetime movies that teach us about children and families torn apart by the selfish pursuits of fame. Like Honey I Shrunk The Kids...oh wait.... that wasn't fame, that was ridiculously impossible science...but whatever, you get it. My family, though imperfect, has remained intact long enough to confuse the world.
And so you see, when it comes down to it , my dad is a man who has always listened when the Lord directs. once upon a time, he felt prompted to reconnect to his ancestral roots and he knew that it meant changing his name. Maybe there were more than a few moments where he wondered, like Saul of the bible or Prince of The Revolution, "am I crazy for doing this whole name change thing?". I don't expect you to understand it. I don't fully understand it. Plenty of really good people don't understand it. And I suspect that sometimes Michael O'Daly doesn't understand it either. But he did it. He paid someone 110 bucks to become Michael O'Daly (which BTW is the name of my great great great grandfather who came to the United States from Ireland and then changed his own name to Daley to fit in) And we see that this man who raised me to understand and value perserverance and to trust in revelation and take faithful leaps into the unknown leads by example.
My dad is a smart man. He's well educated and thoughtful (even that thoughtful is displayed in expletories directed at liberal democrats on the television). You can call him quirky if you want but the truth is that my dad does things that might seem strange or non-sensical and he does them because he believes in a little something called God and revelation. He listens and follows even if it requires some explanation on occassion. He's taught me well and I'm proud to be one of the products of his dutiful, creative life.
Thanks, Dad. I love you.
See as I walk carefully to Ray, a little nervous to introduce him to the new baby...I don't want him to get jealous. But it's going to be hard not to play favorites...Doreen (we think that's her name but I'm not signing anything until I know her a little longer) is rosewood and cedar with deep bass tones and a working pickup. She sounds like a choir of a million little Dolly Partons. How can you not favor that?
Lest you think I suddenly got good enough with money to afford something without an insurance company, I would like to take a minute to thank my arts benefactor for the birthday present. My 33rd year will be a much better one because of you and your generosity.... xoxoxox. I will write a song about you....
And now, I can provo properly.
The Triple Threat Diva Concert. Three roommates, all musicians, all the time. I had been trying to make this concert happen since February, but it was a perfect capstone to the amazing house that I lived in. Patti Papworth, Shannon Simmons and I each performed our own songs and a couple of collaborative three part harmony songs. The highlight for me was Patti playing a drum during "Oh, Seoul". She added this whole element of Korea to the song that was missing when I play it by myself. Talk about painting a picture. Amazing. I love these girls.
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Patti sings JAZZ.
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some well loved patrons of the arts.
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At the hometown market we ate every kind of delicious food that Pennsylvania has to offer.
Aunt Kathy and Great Aunt Katy...Kathy gave me my childhood nickname and Katy took me shopping for my very first NEON outfit. Those are some awesome legacies of love.
One granddaughter and a cute pappy.
When we were too poor to get into the actual park, my family would go to the considerably cheaper (re: free) Hershey Chocolate World, where you get in a little train thing and ride along as they show you how they make the chocolate. I can't do the experience justice here, but just know that there is a nut roaster that actually feels HOT when your traincar goes through it AND big vats of what, to a child, appears to be real chocolate syrup. 
Bottomless Fries? Never-Ending Roller Coasters? This is a beautiful world we live in.
Patti particularly liked the singing cows during the Hershey Chocolate World Exhibit. 
At the end of the ride, they give you a free hershey bar and then dump you out into a marketing nightmare...millions of hershey paraphernalia and the smell of chocolate being pumped in through the air ducts to lull you into a buying frenzy. As a kid, this part was torture because you always wanted to buy the Worlds! Largest! Hershey! Kiss! but your mom (my mom) was smartly ushering you (me) through the gift shop with pursed lips and a hell no! look on her face.
At the park, we discovered Sharyn's gift for ride hopping...She would get off the ride and then skulk around on the other side watching for empty seats at which point she would just jump right back on. Three or four rides in a row later, she'd come bounding out of the exit more excited than a 3 year old who got an M&M for potty training success. 
