Nicknames

I had a good laugh recently from two messages from former colleagues that are addressed to me with a nickname. I think at some point everyone wants a good nickname. There is a whole Seinfeld episode around George’s decision to be called “T-bone.” As it happened in the episode, a nicknames is not usually not decided by you, it is assigned to you by others. Good or bad, a nickname can stick to you forever.

Having the most popular name in my generation, I was often assigned nicknames because there are always too many Mike’s around. I never like being called Ireland, and I guess it never catches on due to my indifference to it. My pal Melissa is the only person I allow to call me Ireland, and it is only because of the acerbic way she says it.

Naming conventions all began with my father. In addition to the legal name given to me, I was also dubbed the M.E. Kid, and the Monkey Man. Dad had names for everyone. David was Big-D, Chris was the Welpish One, and the cat was affectionately referred to as The Beast. We’re also ranked in order when introducing us, which makes me #2. Yeah. Ew. Dad even titled himself, though none of us have ever actually called him Pap.

My earliest memory of a nicknames not handed out by my Father was this kid at Summer Camp called Moose. I remember everyone really enjoyed calling him Moose, and he was quite popular for it. Like most nicknames, I have no idea what his real name was. I envied him for this alternative title. Desiring any and all positive attention, I had hoped that someone would give me a great nickname someday.

That first real nickname that I longed for turned out to be not so great. My clever classmates decided that I was to be called Booger-nose 1 or 2. The 1 or 2 varied by the day, since they also decided this name was perfect for Brian Bosley, and I don’t think there was ever a consistent clarification. I’m near positive there was more equally disparaging names, but for whatever reason this one sticks with me.

My track record did not improve while in Middle School. I was not an athlete, but I did play softball. It wasn’t unusual for kids to wear their team jerseys to school, and since this was the only sport I participated in, I wanted to wear mine. The problem was, my jersey was powder blue and the corporate sponsored team name was A.D.S. – which I’m not sure I ever knew what that stood for. I should have known better I guess. These two knuckleheads in one class decided that stood for AIDS. I can’t remember any of the names of some of the few supportive teachers and friends from middle school, but I will always remember Desi Mathis and Mike Ruckel. I can’t express to you how much I hate that fact, and I only wish them the very worst in their lives.

Having spent much of my life being victimized for my sensitivity and lack of developed social skills, I grew very protective of any information that might lead to any and all teasing. When the members of my Boy Scout troop asked what my middle initial E stood for, I would not tell them. I’m not sure why, but I’ve always hated Edward as my middle name. It never sounded right to me, and I hated my parents for giving me this dumb middle name. My plan held up until they decided to guess my name…which turned up Eugene. I couldn’t comprehend how an E name could get worse, but it did. I spent the greater part of three years as Eugene. Our Troop was rich in nicknames, and other guys were known as The Monk, Reverend Tyron, Shag-Bag and Ewok among a variety of other socially unacceptable names.

I was finally given a positive, but mostly puzzling, nickname while working my part-time job in high school. Chris Krueger started calling me Jerusalum, for no other reason than he just like saying it. It stuck for quite awhile, and it became more of chant later on when they would see me perform on stage. By then I was at least brash enough to hand out my own nicknames to others. My favorites were The Schmoo and Heavy D.

My favorite nickname of all time belongs to one of my oldest friends, and I was there when it was given to him. Like Mike – Dan was a popular name – and we had three Dan’s working set crew for our Drama Club in High School. Dan Chin informed us that his given Chinese name was actually Bokman (pronounced Bok-mun). The elder Dan of the group then suggested we call Mr. Chin “Mun”, and the rest is history. He actually goes by this name today, I hardly think anyone even knows his name is Dan anymore.

I always loved how the guys in Animal House had nicknames assigned to them, so when I got to college I took it upon myself to start naming random people. Spaz and Scooter seemed to stick, but Meatball didn’t catch on. As usual, there was another Mike, and his last name was O’Brien. He was a guy who didn’t have much to say, and what he did say was in monotone. I can’t take credit for it, but we started calling “O.” Best. Nickname. Ever.

In the last ten years or so I’ve had one great nickname that only two people share with me. Two interns that worked with me at Starta-G call me Mikatron. This name is as awesome as the laser canon mounted on the forearm of the evil Decepticon Megatron who inspires this name. The great thing about talking to either of these two is that we have no use for first names. I barely remember that their real names are Chris and Cathy, as they have been called Krig, Kriggity, Loops, Cheese, Meredith, Baby, and Money.

I haven’t come up with a good nickname for my daughter Mia yet. I guess I should honor my Father and present her with some sort of “handle” (that is cool CB talk for the uniformed). Maybe I’ll just let him suggest one.