Some people have really great names.
Like, Rip Torn, Slim Pickens, or Vin Diesel. And there are others that are not-so-famous, but their names sort of match what they do.
Like a writer named John Penn. Or a tennis player named Martha Love. Or how about a truck driver named Tug Wheeler.
I am not sure what a Polly Kronenberger is supposed to do. My name doesn’t match any profession… except on a real stretch. Like… I could work at a McDonalds. Maybe. Or a friend of Wimpy’s. I will gladly pay you Tuesday, for a Kronenberger today.
But nicknames are an entirely different deal. Some people get them. Others go their entire lives without one. Consider the top two photos. The first dude is called “The Red Guy.” And second, is named… “The Red Guy.”
Oh, those pesky nicknames.
Some of my friends called me Krony during my youth. Actually, some people still do.
And when I was really little, my Mom & Dad called me “Crazy Legs.” Then in high school, I started doing major weight lifting, and by my junior year, I was “Thunder Thighs.” These days… “Chicken Legs” come closer to my physicality.
Some people have really cool nicknames. Sports seem to be key in this. “The Say Hey Kid” Willie Mays; “Big Papi” David Ortiz; “Shoeless” Joe Jackson; “Sweetness” Walter Payton; and “Mr. October” Reggie Jackson.
And who knew. Historically, there are some real doozies. A big whole bunch. Some standouts begin with Louis XI. He was known as The Universal Spider. Or there was the Viking Leader names Olaf. His nickname was “The Boneless.” Another Viking Chieftain Eystein Halfdansson was know as Eystein the Fart. And probably my favorite… Charles de Gaulle was known as The Great Asparagus.
But here is the long and short of it. We get names and nicknames, mostly without our choosing. On any given day, though, we might have a different nickname. Even from hour to hour.
Sometimes we feel happy and joyous. John the Jovial. Buoyant Barbara. Radiant Ralph.
And then there are those moments, when we struggle with sadness, or pain. Dan the Doleful. Heartbroken Harriet. Sorrowful Sally.
You get the idea.
I’m just saying … a name can be a wonderful part of our heritage, our upbringing, and our personae. And a nickname, can be catchy, and cool, and even fitting at times. Other times, we can be held accountable simply by association to a name.
The bottom line to all of this? You can’t judge a book by its cover. And if a leaf falls from a tree, it is still a leaf. The same goes for that beautiful rose. By any other name… it is still a rose.
So we go. In our hearts, and in our minds, and in our souls…. is where we truly are.
And that, my friends…. whatever your name may be….. is the true name of the game.
I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual. — Henry David Thoreau
The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are. — Joseph Campbell
I am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep; I am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion. — Alexander the Great