The Rembrandts Daughter

My first band was called Dynamite Lover. My dad did not like that name.

“Jeez Holl,” he’d say. “You really gotta call it that? Maybe think of some other alternatives?”

I was so offended.

“Why wouldn’t I call it that? I love to blow shit up! (I’d never actually blown anything up.) Explosions are rad! Dynamite is a great word…” I scoffed in defense, while he just sort of shrugged his shoulders, rolled his eyes, and let it go. I was eighteen but clearly naive, not considering the double entendre. I think I woke up about ten years later and was like… OH! I get why my dad didn’t like that!

How embarrassing.

For my next trick, I called myself Holly Marilyn, dropping my last name. Marilyn is my middle name. Named after my grandma. My dad’s mom. Many people over the years have thought it was made up. Even close friends of mine. Like I combined Hollywood and Marilyn Monroe. Again, how embarrassing. I would never make up such a ridiculous name (ummm). But my parents would. And did.

I remained Holly M…