About this mother ducker.
A note from Me to You
Hey you Mother Ducker!
Tell me, what could you possibly want to know about me? I’m quite the open book.
If you know me, you know that’s not one bit true, which is why it took me 8 plus years to actually launch this site. Yes, 8 long years - one divorce, five homes, two states, one death, countless pairs of shoes and many packed suitcases later, here I am.
Like many of you, I became silently enraged every time auto-correct would change my strategically placed ‘fuck’ with ‘duck’. Not to mention I found myself saying, “hey mother fucker” in my head to a lot of people who were being completely unreasonable AKA assholes.
And that pal, is how Hey Mother Ducker was born in my brain. I bought the domain, and let it roll around in there for a little while, thinking of ways to present it to the world.
First idea was to launch it and write anonymously, because what authority did I have to say anything? Create all this mystery and then the big reveal. Um, no.
Second idea was to write it just for men - a woman's perspective on men’s struggles. I surveyed a few (good?) men and that idea was quickly shot to shit.
And now, well, I just want to write.
As my dad would say, “You’re in for a real treat!”
Talk soon.
Rhonda
those 8 years
In those 8 years when I let Hey Mother Ducker marinate in my mind, I spent most of my time behind the scenes on photo shoots - working with the likes of Mercedes Benz, Nike, Adidas, Under Armour, Netflix, etc. I never stopped thinking about Hey Mother Ducker, even when I was in Paris on an endless search for wine or wiping sweat from the brow of an international superstar.
