No. Nee. Jo. La. Deyil. Ez. Nie. Ne. Nej. Ei. Non. Ara. Nein. Ohee. Pa. Lo. Nahi. Nem. Tidak. That’s no in 18 languages. I hope you get the message. My name is, without a shadow of doubt, as bad as Gertrude is. No offence to any Gertrude’s reading, which I somewhat doubt. I don’t have anything against people who name their child Gertrude or my name, it’s your prerogative. Some names we love, some names we hate. I, personally, cannot stand my name. I also can’t stand that every child seems to have the same name these days. Just look at the top three male and female names for births in England and Wales for 2012. Harry, Oliver and Jack. Oh, my God. Sigh. No originality any more. Amelia, Olivia and Jessica. Oh, it’s even worse. And where in the name of all that’s holy is my unique, unusual gem? 178th. Well, beats being an Oliver, a cockney chimney sweep from 19th century London. No, mine sounds like a computer programmer. And that name is Alan.
Actually, just over a decade ago in 2003, my name was the 296th most popular. So it’s experiencing something of a comeback. That makes me sad. We need to let it die. I know some of the greatest humans who ever lived had that name, but that isn’t good, though, is it? They were great men who achieved much and I’m letting the side down, not to mention the negative imagery it creates. Two Emmy award-winning actors, one footballer, three Nobel prize winners and one Pulitzer prize winner. Plus, A.A. Milne, Alan Turing, Alan Shepard, Chester Alan Arthur and George Alan O’Dowd (Boy George). But these people are nerds, sexual deviants and heroin addicts. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing being a nerd, nerds make the world work, but when people hear ‘Alan’, they think nerd. And I’m not one. I’m stupid. People have a false expectation of me and that leaves me embarrassed. It’s hard to make friends and girls think less of me. That name. If it was better, something really cool, my life would be frickin’ awesome. Instead, all women treat me with either fear or their best gay friend. All because of that bloody name.
I can’t even claim a cool origin. Nobody knows where the name comes from. Some argue it means, ‘little rock’, which doesn’t help the gay thing, and some think it means, ‘handsome’, but I’m Italian, that’s to be expected. It was the name of many Dukes of Brittany after Breton settlers introduced it after the Norman conquest. Even my mother and father argue it isn’t great. They were expecting a girl. Two boys, always wanted a daughter, painted the room pink, told everyone it was a dead cert I was to be a girl, and against every single expectation, I popped out with a penis. They didn’t have any names for a boy, but they’re traditional. From the time they’re from, you name a child immediately. Spur of the moment.
I don’t ask people to call me Alan. I’m ashamed of it. Most people call me Al, some Ally, I do prefer Ally and that’s what I ask people to call me. If it were up to me, nobody would know what it stood for. It’s held me back in life. It’s a hindrance. I probably would’ve chosen Joseph, I actually chose that for my confirmation name. It’s not very cool, but it is ranked 22, and that is cool. If I were to choose a cool name, I’d be a Jacques. And that isn’t even in the top 1,000 names. And it would’ve helped me a great deal in life.
Instead, I’m lumbered with Alan. I try not to think about it too much, readers. Or why they painted the room pink and presumed I’d be a girl. But what about you?
Do you like your name, readers?
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this post. You can leave a comment and/or like this post below, or by clicking the title on the top of this post if you are on the archives page. Likes and follows greatly appreciated. Thanks.
Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:
The Indelible Life of Me
New Post Every Sunday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post
Hark Around the Words
New Posts Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday
Click Here to Read the Latest Post