Gertrude Stein said that, or something like it. And her name was Gertrude.
What�s in a name? Here at the Big D, we create names for ourselves, names that carry some essence of who we think we really are. We make them up from words and images and bits of ourselves, the way Native Americans, and other cultures, too, recognized each other by meaningful, descriptive phrases: Dances With Wolves, and like that.
A confession: on my birth certificate, it does not say purple chai.
Like you, I have what is commonly recognized as a name. My parents picked it out for me and gave it to me when I was born. They didn�t wait to see if I would like it or not.
Not. I don�t like it; I never did. Since they didn�t give me a middle name, however, I didn�t get the option of using that instead. When I was 5, I made everyone call me Heidi for a week, but it wore off. That wasn�t me, either.
My name is not me. I don�t like to hear it or be called by it. Its rhythm is off somehow; it has no flow. It�s a real name, but it�s not a common one, and the spelling Shirl used isn�t even the standard one. I must spell my name for everyone, and even then, people get it wrong. It�s as if they assume that I must not know how to spell my own name, so they kindly fix it for me.
My last name since 1977 is a lovely short Italian name. Before that, it was a weird and weirdly spelled name that didn�t sound Jewish or any other identifiable ethnicity. I had to spell that for everyone, too. Speaking of Jewish, my first initial (of my hated first name) is R, because, by custom, Jewish children are named after the dear departed, but since Americans were not so eager to name their children Shlomo and Faigie after their Eastern European ancestors, they developed the custom of giving a child the Hebrew name (but sometimes Yiddish) of a loved one, and just using that same initial for the English name. So I�m also Rasel, for a very long gone great-grandmother, but I�ve never needed to use it for anything. I�m not particularly attached to the R, by the way.
I used to think that I might change it someday. I had a name all picked out. My mother�s maiden name is also a not-uncommon girl�s first name; I wanted to rename myself that in honor of my grandfather. But I gave it to my firstborn instead, and now it�s hers.
NAME ME.
You know me by now. Or, if you just got here, you can read these
The Tattoo
The Brain Tumor
Mom
I am 50
Boomer
dad
My Trading Card
Insomniac
Dear Google
and
The Players
They pretty much sum me up. (A little too much, right?)
I never ran a contest before, so I�m winging it. If you�d like to name me, leave a guestbook entry with your suggestion, why you think it�s a good name for me, and a link back to your diary. If you like, here�s a little button
(I couldn't figure out that pesky little blinkie thing) that you can put on your page (thank you very much) so that all of your loyal readers can name me too. If you don�t put it on your page, however, I won�t much mind. We�ve all got a lot on our pages, not to mention our plates and our minds.
I�ll run this for awhile, at least a month, maybe more. In the meantime, I�ll try to think of a prize for the winner.
If anyone comes up with my real name as a suggestion, I can only say, you�d better have an excellent reason and make it crystal clear. Not to intimidate anyone. I can�t imagine that anyone but my mother (who thought she made it up) would think of it.
Keep those cards and letters coming.
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I'm watching Sex in the City videos with the girls
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Sweet Sorrow - 06.12.2007
So ... - 12.19.2006
Christmastime Is Near - 12.18.2006
Fifteen Years - 12.17.2006
A Message From Our Sponsor - 12.16.2006
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