I was bearded when bearded wasn't cool

I am making five pies this week, but not all for me so don't be calling my cardiologist (I don't have one anyway, neener).  I'm test-driving a new crust recipe because mine is crap at blind baking.  I got it out of our community cookbook, and it's from a lady who was a fixture in our town, and whose house I lived in for a year when I was in first grade--when my parents got married my dad was house-sitting while she and her husband were on a mission.  She is in a nursing home now and doesn't remember anyone.  Her name is Muriel and she was friends with my grandma.  I like the name Muriel, and you just know some hipster parent is trying to bring it back.  Because it's awesome and hipsters have a knack for finding and ruining awesome things.  I hate the word hipster, because it's such a hipsterish word, but so far I haven't thought of a apt replacement.