Memoirs of a Geezer!
Reflections and Observations -- A Bright Passage from the Fantasies of Youth
to Illuminations of Advanced Maturity!
This Episode: Identity... Nicknames... Noms de Plume, and Like That!
As I gaze through the lens of hoary GeezerHood, that lofty pinnacle (or is it the nadir?) of life on this planet, I cannot help but ponder the complex concept of identity, that of those we know and encounter in our lives, and our own. Masks? Do we ALL wear them? It's a puzzle, what?
In my youth, I knew a kid who held the unenviable nickname, "Stinky." I don't recall that he was surrounded perpetually by a repulsive odor, in fact I don't think that was the reason. Perhaps he fell into a sewer, you know, just once! Maybe he collected stinkhorns! I don't know, but the nickname stuck throughout elementary school, and what an awful stigma to have to carry. (I wonder if people still call him "Stinky"?!)
I suppose I digress a bit! We all know the phrase, "re-inventing oneself." Not sure I know exactly what it means. In fact, I don't know who the hell I am, most of the time. I think we all tend to identify ourselves in terms of the different phases of our lives. We're different individuals as children, as teens, young adults... And what about mood swings? Bi-polar disorder? Do they change who we are, how we've perceived and identified? Certainly "Bi-Polar" has to pin a name tag on the afflicted party!!
And how about a specific identity that's attached to a person in a specific place he or she tends to frequent? A case in point, maybe not a perfect example, but perhaps kind of interesting... Consider a telephone conversation in which an casual listener might think both
parties nuts, or brain disordered:
"Simon's Tap!"
"That you, Wa...? I mean..."
"It's me, Archie. Who's this?"
"Um... it's me, J... I mean...."
"Mario? That you?"
"Yeah. How you doin' Archie? 'The Boy' around?"
"How's Bobby?"
"SweetHeart?"
"Yeah, Bobby. How's she doin'?"
"She's doin' OK. Big Nick there today? TV Johnny? Oil Rag Ralph?..."
Maybe nicknames are not about identity or even real perceptions of personality or a consequence of re-invention! But we do tend to be identified and given different names by people based on how we present ourselves, our personality traits, talents, appearance, what we do for work! "Mario" rose out of my tendency to sing for the gang at the saloon. Don't know how "Bobby" evolved!
I've had conversations with scholarly individuals who insist we never really know who we are, how to self-identify or convey who we think we are to others. So many tend to identify people in terms of what they do, not who they actually are. We present different faces in the workplace, often very different from those we present to intimates -- family members and close friends -- away from our places of employment.
Email, texting, telephone conversations... they tend to identify people in ways that may be very much or entirely contrary to who we / they might actually be. I have an old friend who is, in most circumstances, bright and articulate, but his telephone manner made one think of a shorthand clerk with a particular dislike for anything longer than 10-seconds on a telephone:
[ Phone rings! (Longer than four rings and he's gone!) ]
"Doin?"
"Nuttin'."
"S'up? Jeetjet?"
"Nah, d'jou?"
"Jake's... five!"
"Ten OK?"
"Got smokes?"
"Some."
"Bucks."
"Some."
"Bring."
(Bang! The end of it was always ear-pingingly loud!)
The conversation -- or whatever it was -- was always the same, no matter who was called. I
often wonder if he knew, or cared, who he was calling. Probably didn't matter! As long as someone showed up with money and smokes in the time allowed!
Long ago, some good friends lived upstairs from us. The male part of the duo had a fondness for strong drink... To be accurate, I guess we all did in those days. One afternoon or early evening, he stumbled in, climbed a few steps, stumbled back one or two, finally arrived at our open back door. "Hey," he slurred as he beamed a smile, eyes not quite focused, addressing the three of us, SweetHeart, our only child at the time and me.
Our little daughter, then just in infancy, perhaps nearing toddler stage, pointed at our friend with a certain degree of dramatic emphasis and said, "Ick." From that day to this, our friend is known affectionately as "Uncle Icky." We've had T-shirts made with the nickname emblazoned upon them. I assure you, he wasn't chronically "icky" with strong spirits, and in fact is a very bright, well-informed and largely self-taught individual. There was, still is, about him a great deal of humor, sober or inebriated! He doesn't seem to mind the moniker, "Uncle Icky." I guess he'd of said something by now, three or four decades later!
Certain labels or so-called identities we hang on people are not at all kind, or fair, or accurate. At a major hotel at which I worked in the Seattle-Tacoma area, there was a salad chef we christened "Florence of Arabia." Why? When she was concocting her leafy, culinary masterworks, knives flashing and whirling, lettuces and vegetable matter flying about her head and upper torso as she worked... I mean, it all looked like a vegetarian sandstorm! It's entirely possible she went from her job to an art studio, or maybe, avocationally, she knit socks, or volunteered as a counselor to people struggling with identity issues...
One more thing... I think it's rather sad and unfortunate that people tend to identify certain individuals in terms of prominent physical characteristics, often unkindly so...
"That you, Biffy? How ya doin'?"
"I'm OK. You?"
"Good, thanks!"
"Hey Biffy, I lost my address book. Can you give me Iggy Blotnik's phone number?"
"You mean the guy wid de ears?"
"Look, Biffy, it's true Iggy has noticeably large ears and elongated lobes, but he has many other, including some very admirable characteristics too. He's bright. He's knowledgable. He's a great conversationalist. Good hair and teeth. I mean, the guy's a well-known micro-biologist!!"
"You mean the guy wid dem ears!"
"Gimme the phone number, Biffy."
So who the hell are we, really? And how do we truly come to know one another? I mean, in a real and significant sense! Oh well... I'm hoping I'll eventually figure out a point to all this foolishness! Hey! Maybe everyone in the nation ought to have a talk show or a reality program to let people know who we are! Wait! Here's a swell idea for a brand new television show: "Who am I? Do I Know, or Do You?" I should call Doctor Phil, or somebody. On second thought, never mind... It's all too obscure and indefinable!!
As I gaze through the lens of hoary GeezerHood, that lofty pinnacle (or is it the nadir?) of life on this planet, I cannot help but ponder the complex concept of identity, that of those we know and encounter in our lives, and our own. Masks? Do we ALL wear them? It's a puzzle, what?
In my youth, I knew a kid who held the unenviable nickname, "Stinky." I don't recall that he was surrounded perpetually by a repulsive odor, in fact I don't think that was the reason. Perhaps he fell into a sewer, you know, just once! Maybe he collected stinkhorns! I don't know, but the nickname stuck throughout elementary school, and what an awful stigma to have to carry. (I wonder if people still call him "Stinky"?!)
I suppose I digress a bit! We all know the phrase, "re-inventing oneself." Not sure I know exactly what it means. In fact, I don't know who the hell I am, most of the time. I think we all tend to identify ourselves in terms of the different phases of our lives. We're different individuals as children, as teens, young adults... And what about mood swings? Bi-polar disorder? Do they change who we are, how we've perceived and identified? Certainly "Bi-Polar" has to pin a name tag on the afflicted party!!
And how about a specific identity that's attached to a person in a specific place he or she tends to frequent? A case in point, maybe not a perfect example, but perhaps kind of interesting... Consider a telephone conversation in which an casual listener might think both
"Simon's Tap!"
"That you, Wa...? I mean..."
"It's me, Archie. Who's this?"
"Um... it's me, J... I mean...."
"Mario? That you?"
"Yeah. How you doin' Archie? 'The Boy' around?"
"How's Bobby?"
"SweetHeart?"
"Yeah, Bobby. How's she doin'?"
"She's doin' OK. Big Nick there today? TV Johnny? Oil Rag Ralph?..."
Maybe nicknames are not about identity or even real perceptions of personality or a consequence of re-invention! But we do tend to be identified and given different names by people based on how we present ourselves, our personality traits, talents, appearance, what we do for work! "Mario" rose out of my tendency to sing for the gang at the saloon. Don't know how "Bobby" evolved!
I've had conversations with scholarly individuals who insist we never really know who we are, how to self-identify or convey who we think we are to others. So many tend to identify people in terms of what they do, not who they actually are. We present different faces in the workplace, often very different from those we present to intimates -- family members and close friends -- away from our places of employment.
Email, texting, telephone conversations... they tend to identify people in ways that may be very much or entirely contrary to who we / they might actually be. I have an old friend who is, in most circumstances, bright and articulate, but his telephone manner made one think of a shorthand clerk with a particular dislike for anything longer than 10-seconds on a telephone:
[ Phone rings! (Longer than four rings and he's gone!) ]
"Doin?""Nuttin'."
"S'up? Jeetjet?"
"Nah, d'jou?"
"Jake's... five!"
"Ten OK?"
"Got smokes?"
"Some."
"Bucks."
"Some."
"Bring."
(Bang! The end of it was always ear-pingingly loud!)
The conversation -- or whatever it was -- was always the same, no matter who was called. I
 |
| This is not a good likeness of Uncle Icky! Nor is the top image a good depiction of the laconic caller, but you probably get the idea! |
Long ago, some good friends lived upstairs from us. The male part of the duo had a fondness for strong drink... To be accurate, I guess we all did in those days. One afternoon or early evening, he stumbled in, climbed a few steps, stumbled back one or two, finally arrived at our open back door. "Hey," he slurred as he beamed a smile, eyes not quite focused, addressing the three of us, SweetHeart, our only child at the time and me.
Our little daughter, then just in infancy, perhaps nearing toddler stage, pointed at our friend with a certain degree of dramatic emphasis and said, "Ick." From that day to this, our friend is known affectionately as "Uncle Icky." We've had T-shirts made with the nickname emblazoned upon them. I assure you, he wasn't chronically "icky" with strong spirits, and in fact is a very bright, well-informed and largely self-taught individual. There was, still is, about him a great deal of humor, sober or inebriated! He doesn't seem to mind the moniker, "Uncle Icky." I guess he'd of said something by now, three or four decades later!
 |
| Florence did not look like "Mickey da Rat," but she did have Red Hair! |
Certain labels or so-called identities we hang on people are not at all kind, or fair, or accurate. At a major hotel at which I worked in the Seattle-Tacoma area, there was a salad chef we christened "Florence of Arabia." Why? When she was concocting her leafy, culinary masterworks, knives flashing and whirling, lettuces and vegetable matter flying about her head and upper torso as she worked... I mean, it all looked like a vegetarian sandstorm! It's entirely possible she went from her job to an art studio, or maybe, avocationally, she knit socks, or volunteered as a counselor to people struggling with identity issues...
One more thing... I think it's rather sad and unfortunate that people tend to identify certain individuals in terms of prominent physical characteristics, often unkindly so...
"That you, Biffy? How ya doin'?"
"I'm OK. You?"
"Good, thanks!"
"Hey Biffy, I lost my address book. Can you give me Iggy Blotnik's phone number?"
"You mean the guy wid de ears?"
"Look, Biffy, it's true Iggy has noticeably large ears and elongated lobes, but he has many other, including some very admirable characteristics too. He's bright. He's knowledgable. He's a great conversationalist. Good hair and teeth. I mean, the guy's a well-known micro-biologist!!"
"You mean the guy wid dem ears!"
"Gimme the phone number, Biffy."
So who the hell are we, really? And how do we truly come to know one another? I mean, in a real and significant sense! Oh well... I'm hoping I'll eventually figure out a point to all this foolishness! Hey! Maybe everyone in the nation ought to have a talk show or a reality program to let people know who we are! Wait! Here's a swell idea for a brand new television show: "Who am I? Do I Know, or Do You?" I should call Doctor Phil, or somebody. On second thought, never mind... It's all too obscure and indefinable!!
Humbly Submitted, January 18, 2018 -- Joel K.
