Nicknames and Aliases
Mar. 11th, 2010 08:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kybearfuzzYesterday I was talking to a co-worker about how people tend not to use their first names, but their middle ones and sometimes their nicknames. It got me to thinking about my dad and his gaggle of friends, almost all of whom had nicknames.
My dad was known as "T-Bud" since he was a child. No one seems to recall where it came from, but he rarely used his legal name of "James." He was once nearly taken to jail by a police officer who couldn't verify his identity with his work because the lady who answered the phone didn't recognize Dad's given name. His nickname was so ingrained in his identity, we even put it on Dad's tombstone to keep confusion to a minimum for future generations.
I was thinking yesterday about his group of friends and how many of them had the odd nicknames. In doing so, it surprised me how many of them were just the strangest collection of small-town oddities.
"Cheese" was a coworker of my dad's when he worked for a funeral home. Always in a suit and well put together, he stood out among Dad's friends as respectable. His nickname was a play on his last name of Schiesz, which is pronouned "Shee-z."
"Ham" was a large, heavy man who always drove up in an El Camino. He had those mutton-chop sideburns and no facial hair. He was always a nice guy, but I admit that I always seemed to keep my distance from him. He and Dad would go to the local speedway to watch the car races on Saturdays. Why "Ham?" I have no idea.
"Onion" was a worker or manager at another local funeral home where Dad didn't work. He was an older man with thinning, greased-back gray hair. When he was around us kids, he would pop out his lower dentures and act like he was combing his hair with them. Classy. Why "onion?" Again, no idea.
"Rub Tub" was probably my dad's best friend and a complete asshole. Heavy-set and obnoxious, I spent the majority of my childhood avoiding contact with him, scowling at him at every opportunity. He would play "games" where he would squeeze my fingers between his stubby sausages until they hurt. I kicked him the shins once during that game and got in trouble, but I felt vindicated despite the spanking by my dad that followed. He had two sons named Tom and Jerry (seriously!) who were much older. My dad and he took all us boys camping once. It was a disaster. Why the nick? Who knows.. who cares...
"Junebug" is one of the nicest guys in the world. He would often visit my parents, usually bringing a bag of corn or tomatoes or some other produce that someone had given to him that he'd never eat up on his own. He has had white hair since I was a kid and was always hard of hearing. Now he's almost completely deaf and almost yells when he talks, but he refuses to wear hearing aids. I'm not sure how old he is, but he must be in his 90's. I've not seen him in years, but my mom hears about him every now and again.
One last friend didn't have a nickname, but was such an odd character I didn't feel right to not mention him. His name was Tom. He was heavy, big-bellied man with blue eyes and a deep, booming voice. Perpetually stuck in the 1950's, he wore white tee-shirts, blue-jeans, and kept his hair in a big, black, slick pompadour. He was a nice guy, but often irritated my mom as he expected to be fed or given cigarettes any time he visited. He also had this nasty habit of leaning back on the couch and falling asleep at the drop of a hat. In the list of Dad's friends with nicknames, I often wonder why Tom didn't get one.
Given that my dad would be in his late 70's were he alive, it's not surprising that most of his friends above are deceased. Only Cheese and Junebug are still around, Cheese being much younger than the rest of Dad's crowd.
The nicknames pretty much stopped with Dad's generation, though he certainly did attempt to give them out to my siblings, but most of them didn't stick. Though, today my sister is still known sometimes as "Luther" to my eldest brother, "Sadie" to his twin, and "Booger" to the rest of us. That however is a story for another day :)
My dad was known as "T-Bud" since he was a child. No one seems to recall where it came from, but he rarely used his legal name of "James." He was once nearly taken to jail by a police officer who couldn't verify his identity with his work because the lady who answered the phone didn't recognize Dad's given name. His nickname was so ingrained in his identity, we even put it on Dad's tombstone to keep confusion to a minimum for future generations.
I was thinking yesterday about his group of friends and how many of them had the odd nicknames. In doing so, it surprised me how many of them were just the strangest collection of small-town oddities.
"Cheese" was a coworker of my dad's when he worked for a funeral home. Always in a suit and well put together, he stood out among Dad's friends as respectable. His nickname was a play on his last name of Schiesz, which is pronouned "Shee-z."
"Ham" was a large, heavy man who always drove up in an El Camino. He had those mutton-chop sideburns and no facial hair. He was always a nice guy, but I admit that I always seemed to keep my distance from him. He and Dad would go to the local speedway to watch the car races on Saturdays. Why "Ham?" I have no idea.
"Onion" was a worker or manager at another local funeral home where Dad didn't work. He was an older man with thinning, greased-back gray hair. When he was around us kids, he would pop out his lower dentures and act like he was combing his hair with them. Classy. Why "onion?" Again, no idea.
"Rub Tub" was probably my dad's best friend and a complete asshole. Heavy-set and obnoxious, I spent the majority of my childhood avoiding contact with him, scowling at him at every opportunity. He would play "games" where he would squeeze my fingers between his stubby sausages until they hurt. I kicked him the shins once during that game and got in trouble, but I felt vindicated despite the spanking by my dad that followed. He had two sons named Tom and Jerry (seriously!) who were much older. My dad and he took all us boys camping once. It was a disaster. Why the nick? Who knows.. who cares...
"Junebug" is one of the nicest guys in the world. He would often visit my parents, usually bringing a bag of corn or tomatoes or some other produce that someone had given to him that he'd never eat up on his own. He has had white hair since I was a kid and was always hard of hearing. Now he's almost completely deaf and almost yells when he talks, but he refuses to wear hearing aids. I'm not sure how old he is, but he must be in his 90's. I've not seen him in years, but my mom hears about him every now and again.
One last friend didn't have a nickname, but was such an odd character I didn't feel right to not mention him. His name was Tom. He was heavy, big-bellied man with blue eyes and a deep, booming voice. Perpetually stuck in the 1950's, he wore white tee-shirts, blue-jeans, and kept his hair in a big, black, slick pompadour. He was a nice guy, but often irritated my mom as he expected to be fed or given cigarettes any time he visited. He also had this nasty habit of leaning back on the couch and falling asleep at the drop of a hat. In the list of Dad's friends with nicknames, I often wonder why Tom didn't get one.
Given that my dad would be in his late 70's were he alive, it's not surprising that most of his friends above are deceased. Only Cheese and Junebug are still around, Cheese being much younger than the rest of Dad's crowd.
The nicknames pretty much stopped with Dad's generation, though he certainly did attempt to give them out to my siblings, but most of them didn't stick. Though, today my sister is still known sometimes as "Luther" to my eldest brother, "Sadie" to his twin, and "Booger" to the rest of us. That however is a story for another day :)
