What’s in a name?

More than you can think.
Bestowing a first name upon a child is an important decision.
It is an important decision because the chosen label will often mold the man he will become.
A Jeeves couldn’t obviously be anything but a butler, but a Jefferson would clearly have brighter prospects for posterity.
And could Lady Gaga ever be president?

My first name is Alain. It’s a common name in France and I always enjoyed it. But unforeseen problems started shortly after my arrival in the United States.
Well-intentioned but misguided people took it upon themselves to call me “Al”.
I am sorry to say that this initiative didn’t sit well with me. I don’t mind being called Alan but I won’t tolerate any abbreviations or nicknames. Alain I was born, and Alain I shall remain.

I have never understood the self-mutilation ritual that Americans inflict upon themselves. Is it a new form of circumcision?
A noble sounding name like Charles becomes Chuck, Abraham becomes Abe, William becomes Bill… What’s the matter with you Yanks?
Are you so self-conscious about ancient and honorable names that you need to drag them into the gutter to make it more palatable to some of your trashy friends?

Even more annoying than this “cutting” practice, is adding a suffix to a name.
The addition of “the Second”, “Third” or “Junior” to any name, reeks of vulgarity and should be avoided at all costs.
Using initials is also a great American habit. PJ’s, CJ’s, JR’s are now swarming through the land and should be shunned, or even deported.

The apparition of odd names is also very disturbing. Naming somebody “Chastity”, “Beyoncé”, “Casserole” or “LaToya” strikes me as very puzzling indeed… Is there such a shortage of old and glorious names? Do we need to be so crass to be noticed? I don’t think so.

I know a man who was called Chucky when he was a chubby toddler.
He grew up to be an imposing six-footer and realized that Chucky was not adequate anymore.
He asked his friends and acquaintances to start calling him Chuck.
After years of hard work, Chuck became an accomplished opera singer and decided to change his name to Charles, his baptismal name.

Charles did well in the operatic world and developed a particular fondness for Italian arias. Being in the constant company of Italian composers and artists provided the right environment for another metamorphosis.
Remembering his fading Italian ancestry, he changed his name again to Carlo.
A much better sounding moniker than Charles in the rarefied world of Opera.

I don’t mind this reverse progression; as a matter of fact I applaud it. Familiarity might work well for demagogues but it can also be condescending and insulting.
“My name is William Robespierre Beauregard, but since we obviously don’t come from the same background, you can call me Bill and I’ll continue to call you Chico”. How does that strike you?

My advice to you: if you are lucky enough to have been christened William (a noble and ancient name), don’t cheapen it to be popular. Wear it proudly as it was intended.

Popularity is fleeting, good names are not.

Alain

 

Weaning is hard to do

In 2004, shortly after I agreed to become secretary of La Pétanque Marinière, I created a website called Au Cochonnet Marin.
The name “Cochonnet Marin” by the way is a play with words.
In French, the word “cochonnet” means piglet and “marin” means sailor.
Cochonnet Marin therefore means “Sailing Piglet”.

“Cochonnet” is also what the little wooden jack used in pétanque is called, and “marin” also stands for Marin County.
So Cochonnet Marin can also signify “Marin Jack”.
Clever, aren’t I?

IMG_7087 - Version 2

When I created this website, my intent was to provide a focal point for all the club members and for all who were interested by the game of pétanque.
In the beginning, I wrote mainly about “boules” and the club activities.
I wanted to be informative, fun, and at the same time independent.
But I also wanted to have full control of the of the website’s contents and give free rein to my imagination.
I think that I did this.

I resigned from the Board of Directors of La Pétanque Marinière at the end of December 2011.

Due to software problems and limitations, I also decided to change the format and the content of the website.
One of the primary reasons for doing this was that I wanted my site to have archival content. I wanted my readers to be able to retrieve, read, print and forward previously published articles, something that they could not achieve with my original format.
And since there is more to life than pétanque (what am I saying?), I also wanted to deal with subjects other than pétanque. And I have done so.

This blog has been on line since August 2012.
It has gone through a few changes since its launch and it will continue to evolve.
The architecture might look different but the goal is still to inform and to entertain.
I will therefore continue to write and regularly publish my opinionated little pieces.

The main change (and this is what this article is all about) is the fact that from now on I will not send you a reminder (link) each time I publish a new story.

Starting today, I am passing the baton to you. It is going to be up to you to proactively seek my site and discover what’s new.

I hope that you will remain a faithful reader and let your friends know about my blog.

Thank you.

Alain

PS: If you want to automatically receive a new article through email, SUBSCRIBE TO BLOG(on the right bottom of my home page). Enter your e-mail address and click “subscribe”.

 

I am a bad American

I am coming clean. I confess. I am a bad American!
I don’t give a flying fart about football and its Super Bullish Extravaganza!
In the McCarthy era I would have been blacklisted and investigated for anti-American activities.
In Iran, the Revolutionary Guards would have stoned me to death.
In the Middle Ages I would have been burnt at the stake.
Repent you heathen ruffian, they would have said, and before surrendering your soul to the Devil, acknowledge the infallibility of the Football League!

But I cannot help it. Football doesn’t turn me on.
I don’t understand or share the collective hysteria sweeping the country.
I don’t get any satisfaction in watching overweight players bumping heads. Pompom girls I could watch, but tattooed gladiators, no thanks.

I guess that some people like viewing football because it allows them to live vicariously through their heroes. They can very well imagine tackling their boss and leaving him on the field with some serious concussion.
This is satisfying!

These last few days I have been unable to tune in to any TV channel without being verbally assaulted by over-enthusiastic reporters.
They are everywhere interviewing players, parents, priests, pets…
They give breathless accounts of the quarterbacks’ most inner thoughts, what they ate for breakfast and what they think of global warming.

The country even temporarily forgot about Kardashian’s baby! Can you imagine… relegating Kardashian’s moneymaking enterprises to the news back burners!
That is truly un-American!

And, like at the St Patrick, everybody feels obligated to wear their favorite team’s colors. Even helpless babies are strapped in gaudy uniforms.
If I am not mistaken, I think that this could qualify as child abuse…

And then there will be the inevitable riots after the game.
Winning or losing, some punks will release their pent-up emotions by kicking garbage cans and smashing windows. The police expect it and don’t mind the overtime.

No, personally I refuse to subscribe to this mass hysteria.
Tomorrow I will probably find solace by munching on some homemade cookies while watching reruns of the Andy Griffith Show.

This is as American as can be!

Alain