Don't Take Me Seriously - Book - Page 173
Featured commentary
Self-descriptions in seven letters or fewer
E
ach of us has an innate need
to be known by others, and
others have an innate need to
label us. It just helps organize the
world.
For example, there was a time
when your surname really meant
something.
You know, like when “Johnson”
meant the “son of John” and the
world you interacted with was so
small it knew only one John, so
thereby knew only you as his son.
(And, no, your idiot brother was not
known as a Johnson, but, instead,
as “Dolt.”)
Similarly, if you were called
“Miller,” it was because you
ground grain. Anyone called
“Baker” baked bread and “Brewer”
was, likewise, self-explanatory,
but it also doubled for “friend”
because, if you were one, everyone
wanted to be yours.
“Hey, Johnson, you did
remember to invite Brewer to the
party, right?”
However, some surnames
for being the first to find,
Jim known
and hit on, the prettiest girl in any
WALKER township.
But, somewhere along the way,
DON’T TAKE ME SERIOUSLY
you received were less than
complimentary. If you earned the
names Broadgirdle, Hogbreath or,
heaven forbid, Blackbottom, you
pretty much had to move to a new
village.
Of course, if you were wealthy,
you could change your rep with PR.
You could rent a minstrel to walk
ahead of you and sing about your
wondrous exploits as you moved to
a new hamlet.
“Here arrives brave John, who
slew a dragon yon — and was
never called Blackbottom.”
Now, it would seem that Native
Americans and their friends used
to have this same sort of thing
going on.
For example, we know Standswith-a-Fist punched somebody out,
and it is said Hawkeye was well-
the world got too large, and there
were just too many people for
short names to explain things.
Should she live today, Standswith-a-Fist might have to be called
something like Stands-with-a-Fistwith-the-Droopy-Eye-and-PiercedLip-Who-Used-to-Live-on-DelMonte-Drive-but-RecentlySuffered-Foreclosure.
It would be kind of
cumbersome.
So, these days, a short name
means nothing and, unless you
commit a newsworthy crime or can
afford the PR to make the world
believe you are no longer Stefani
Germanotta, but now Lady Gaga,
you fade into the background
completely.
But us poor folk do have one
option to tell the world what we
want it to know about us in a
succinct and powerful way.
We get personalized license plates.
These plates say everything in
seven letters or fewer. However,
we have no control over how others
interpret our plates.
So, just for fun, and with
apologies to anyone who actually
has any of the following license
plates, consider:
STRGAZR: The owner of this
plate probably wants us to know he
studies the heavens or — awww
— has big dreams. However, we
could mistakenly infer he watches
celebrities through their bedroom
windows.
DREMWVR: Could be a
Hollywood agent, might interpret
dreams for a living — or it’s
Gary Wright, hoping someone
remembers him.
WTLOSER: She might be a diet
guru — but if WT gets interpreted
as “what,” she’s really putting
herself down.
JSUSLVN: Could be loving
Jesus, or a guy with that name
who’s a nurse.
ICRCKUP: A comedian, crack
addict or a really bad diver. In any
case, you’d better not follow too
closely.
MUSCMAN: He might be
a musician, but he might have
graduated from USC, with the
USCMAN plate already taken,
or he might have a really musky
odor — or all of the above.
OPTMIST: Could be a really
positive person, or has chosen a
new gender.
P84WRD: Might be passing on
the help he has received in life or
scratching out a living as a writer.
PRNSTAR: No, he works in
Accounts Receivable at Princeton
University.
I’m just sayin’, it’s easy to
confuse things. So when you are
choosing your vanity plate letters,
your billboard to the world, so to
speak, you might want to run your
ideas by a few friends before you
order.
Comment at jwalker@the-signal.
com or Twitter @DontSeriously.
