The Namesake

Several people have asked us where we got the name Jones.

So I'd like to introduce you to:

My great grandpa Jones

In his newly spray painted Goodwill frame all ready to go up in a place of honor on the family tree in the living room.

Great Grandpa Jones was a motorcycle cop with the California highway patrol for a lot of years. I overheard my Grandma Lynn (his daughter) saying the other day that he was one of the first to ride a Harley on patrol (I'll have to verify that) and between the Harley and the boots and the leather jacket and the badge you have to admit that he was a pretty cool looking dude.

I actually knew my great grandpa. He lived near us for a while in northern California. We visited him regularly and he always gave us butterscotch candies. I was still fairly young when he died, but I remember him well. They played "Wind Beneath My Wings" at his funeral and I remember having to stifle a giggle because it really didn't seem like a Grandpa Jones kind of song.

When I suggested the name Jones to Aaron he immediately took to it. I, however, waffled for a bit since it's a bit different.

But then I remembered this guy:

and I was like, "Ya know, between Indiana and Grandpa, a kid named Jones has a pretty decent shot at being awesome."

And so Jones he became.