Don't Call Me Little Bastard, Call Me Snake

When I was a boy, my dad used to call me "Mr. Bones." I never knew why. It might have made sense if I were a skinny child, but since I was stocky (a word often used to describe Jupiter Jones, one of my early literary heroes), my bones were not ever very much in evidence. Dad was not a "Star Trek" fan, nor was I (and he called me "Mr. Bones," not "Dr. Bones," or simply "Bones"). Besides that, the only significant nickname I've ever had is "Jerry," which hardly even qualifies since nobody uses my actual name (I'm on the books as "Gerald").

Why am I bringing this up, and why are you reading it? Only you can answer that last question, but David Sedaris is the answer to the first. I just finished Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, and, along with making me again wish that I had the conejos to make a living out of humiliating my family, the book re-introduced me to David's brother, The Rooster.

It would be one thing if Paul Sedaris were just sometimes known as "Rooster." But the definite article elevates it to another level. He is not a rooster; he is the rooster. He is an archetype. He has claimed all of the mythical powers of the beast and made them his. This would be a good time for me to mention the relevant philosophies of Joseph Campbell, if I had actually ever read any Joseph Campbell.

The extranomial avatar gains even more power when the nicknamed refers to himself in the third person. When Paul says "you can't kill The Rooster," it means something different than "you can't kill me" or "you can't kill Paul."  "The Dude abides" is distinct from "I abide" or "Jeff abides." Granted, one thing that referring to yourself in the third person (with or without a nickname) might mean is that you're an insufferable asshole with an inflated opinion of yourself. So, not everybody can gracefully carry off a "The _____" nickname, or even any nickname that isn't a diminutive of a given name.

It's probably also significant, although I have no idea why, that before we started calling him "Batman," he was known to the terrified but ultimately grateful populace of Gotham as "The Bat-Man." What is it about that definite article?

The use of an animal also seems important -- almost as if you're adopting the animal as a spirit guide. (Again, see Joseph Campbell, probably.) At one point, the world seemed to have decided that my "power animal" was the bear -- not surprising for a (once) bearded biggish fella who likes to sleep and eat a lot and regularly maims hikers in the wilderness. I guess there are worse animals to be associated with, but I would have been happier with the comparison if cartoon bears weren't usually portrayed as vicious, gluttonous and/or dumb (since observing the behavior of cartoon animals is the principal way we Americans learn about zoology). Anyway, none of the bear-themed nicknames stuck.

The provenance of a nickname is as important as what the nickname is -- the first thing you want to know after you hear a person's nickname is how he got that nickname. The story helps us understand the person. What characteristic of his personality does the nickname sum up? Maybe one reason I haven't attracted nicknames in the past is that I tend not to stick with one thing long enough to become associated with it. Of course, there's the danger of being assigned a nickname based on some undesirable trait.

Man. Again with my life paralleling George Costanza.

So. Questions for further discussion:

• If you have a nickname, where did it come from and what does it mean?
• Do you like it? Does it, you know, do anything for you? Grant you mystical powers or whatnot? Do you think of "[nickname]" differently than you do "[real name]" as a person?
• Has anybody successfully nicknamed himself or herself (other than, like, going to college and getting all your new friends to call you by another version of your real name or by another proper name altogether, although we can talk about that, too)?

Comments

[Erin]

I have never really had a nickname. A couple people used to call me "Mac," but that's about it.

What I'm really commenting about is how much I loved Jupiter Jones. I need to get those books! Or build a secret headquarters in a junkyard. One or the other.

[Kai Jones]

Not me, but my kid brother: from birth we called him Squeaker, because he had allergies and instead of crying, he squeaked. When he was 5 and going to start school we asked him to pick another name (he had 3 given names, each of which also had at least one usual nickname). He picked the name of our sister's boyfriend at the time.

Then he did it again as an adult, gave up the nickname and started going by one of his given names.

I, on the other hand, legally changed my name when I was 42, and only two people still call me by my old name: the senior partner I work for (to whom I granted a lifetime exemption), and my father.

[lastewie]

In this entry on my blog I talked about the MANY nicknames I've had, but I didn't get into how I got them. Nicknames are cool. And I think that I'll talk about them if I ever have a first date again.

[Nick]

Dude,

Last week someone, and bless them for this, really, reminded me that I used to wear the "husky" toughskins when I was a kid.

As for nicknames, I had one until I was able to ditch it upon entering high school. "Chip". I hated it with a passion. Made me seem very flitty and unweighty. It did not reflect the serious angst and rage I had in my heart. Origin: I have the same given name as my father - which I still don't get since I'm the third son - so he called me "Chip of the old block." Ugh. To add insult, my mother wanted to call me tre (short for tres; number three son en francais), which I thought would have been cool. Although, in reality, I probably would have hated that, too. Just the grass-is-greener syndrome.

Another one that I had for one term in college was "the gazelle". I loved it - obscure animal reference _and_ the leading article. People (the few who used this nickname) called me "gazelle" to my face and only used "the gazelle" in third person references to me. Origin: I was playing short fielder on the ASME softball team and sprinted (and perhaps leapt - I just don't remember) to snag a line drive that I had no business getting to. Someone annointed me on the spot - I think it was the second baseman. May have been the pitcher...

[minty]

I was called "Mouse" as a child. I was shy and quiet, so it fit, but I'm not sure it was entirely helpful. Also, I loved Vienna sausages, which in our house were known as "Mouse meat."

I guess "Minty" is my new(ish) nickname, since it's not my real name. (No! Really!) I thank Pinky for bestowing this name upon me; I like it very, very much and it does grant me magical, mystical internet powers. How does "The Minty" sound?

I have a friend who once saw The Rooster's work van driving down the street, and he yelled something witty at him. The Rooster did not seem amused.

I love The Dude, and The Dude does indeed abide, but remember, nobody fucks with The Jesus.

[Jerry]

Erin: Stocky. Arrogant. Brilliant. What is there that is not to love about Jupiter Jones? I submit that there is nothing not to love.

Kai: All toddlers should be named Squeaker.

Jenny: That's the spirit! Specifically, that's the defeatist, depressing spirit. And I should know, since I invented it.

Nick: I think you win, so far. "The Gazelle" is a better nickname than, say, "The Pronghorn Antelope" or "The Wildebeest," both of which at least one source say are faster. (Actually, "The Wildebeest" would be pretty cool, too.)

Minty: I think it'd have to be "The Mint." Also: The creep can roll, but he's a pervert.

[lastewie]

Just a little mild fun-poking is all!

[pinky]

I've never really had a nickname - just the usual diminutives of my name and terms of endearment. Although what's funny is that even people who have known me forever call me Pinky, now. Even though it was never a real nickname of mine.

[Jerry]

It's the power of the Internet. Online identity overtakes real identity. Or is there even any difference between the two? I kinda hope not.

So it's okay to call you Pinky when I see you in person?

[I ZImbra]

I was dubbed "rice girl" after I puked up rice outside of a Ben Folds Five show in August of 1995. This was particularly humiliating because I liked a boy that was attending the show and, well, he saw everything. Anyway, several people from this group of friends referred to me as this for about a year. But I had no idea until someone let it slip one day. And I didn't like it. Perhaps I shouldn't have cared so much but it just reminded me of that gross, embarrassing incident.

Some people refer to me by my last name only and I like it quite a bit. But that's not really a nickname.

[pinky]

you can call me pinky - it does startle me slightly, though.

(although not as startling as the time when the gal working at Whole Foods shouted "hey pinky!" across the bread section)

[Mary]

Okay, this isn't even about me, but worth mentioning: a guy in my middle school (and this continued into high school, I think) was nicknamed "Booger." Everyone knew him as "Booger (lastname)." Which is a terrible nickname. I'm not sure how he got it--I don't remember seeing any boogers or snot coming out of his nose, ever. Someone probably saw him pick his nose ONCE and then he had the nickname forever. I don't even remember what his real first name was, because everyone called him Booger! Maybe even the teachers, I don't know!!! Anyhow, for poor kids like that, I wish there were some kind of anti-nickname device, reversal spell, or cloak of invisibility, because that just ain't right to have to carry that with you for so many years. I don't know what ever became of him. I hope he's living his life somewhere in peace where nobody knows him as "Booger" anymore.

[Jerry]

Of course, you may know "Booger" better these days as United States Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts.

And now you know... the rest of the story.

[michelle]

Jerry, your Paul Harvey made me choke on my coffee. That was too funny for 8:17 in the morning.

[marianne]

Mars - as in 'Women are from Venus, and men run from Mars'. Actually, this one is a family one. I used to enjoy being named as a candy bar, but no more, RIP
Marie Antoinette - in elementary school. I obviously no longer carry myself with the air of imperious entitlement that I once did, more's the pity
MD - my initials, and also symptomatic of my curious diagnostic powers (a friend's pregnancy, another friend's son's allergies...), and my soothing bedside manner.

[suz]

I met The Rooster. I wanted to have hardwood floors put in my house and, yes, I called Sedaris Flooring (aka Silly P Productions) for an estimate. I figured they would send some lackey but IT WAS THE ROOSTER. Very short guy, not really as interesting as I thought he'd be. And seemed kind of flaky.

Talk about nicknames... my mother's term of endearment for me, until just a few years ago, was Sewer Rat (Sue-Sewer, see?). Granted, one of me and my sister's favorite things to do as a kid was crawl around in the stream culverts/storm sewers. It was the biggest adventure you could have in white bread suburbia in the 70s I guess. When I finally got a car, it was lovingly dubbed the Ratmobile.

[Gina]

They tried to call me "Sprite" (bubbly, but not perhaps lemon-lime flavored) in high school, but it didn't stick (to my great sadness... I've always wanted a nickname and never had one). The LintQueen is more of a title than a nickname, I think.

My hypothesis is that the more abby-normal your regular name is, the more unlikely it is that you'll end up with a nickname. "Gina" is so odd to start with...

[Elizabeth]

Since the age of 24, when my husband came in the the Marine Corps as an officer, my name has been Ma'am. It is nice, a sign of respect, etc. Except that now his Marines call me "The Ma'am." As in, "Sir, The Ma'am just called." You can hear the capital letters. It makes me cringe. I'm on a crusade to get them to call me something different. As with all crusades, I'll be limping home defeated here very shortly.

[Jerry]

Suz: That's a little disillusioning, but I guess I should know better than to expect that the actual members of the Sedaris family would be as interesting as David makes them out to be.

Gina: Sorry "Sprite" didn't stick. I'll start calling you that now, if it'll help.

Elizabeth: Keep fighting the good fight. Semper fi. But when the Marines are addressing a married female officer, do they say "The Sir" called?

[minty]

Well, Amy is a member of the Sedaris family, and she is pretty goddamn entertaining. So why can't we expect ALL of them to be? I think they owe it to us.