It must seem pretty hypocritical that a woman who is building a website to celebrate and facilitate sharing between people would be so reticent about sharing something as unobtrusive as her name. But I have to confess that one of my biggest pet peeves is the new coffee house strategy for making sure they give you the right drink. “Triple venti non-fat latte, coming right up… What’s your name?”
Who wants to know?
Frankly, I don’t want to give them my name. Is it because I have never really liked it? because it’s hard to spell? because mom warned about people offering me candy in exchange for my name? Let’s face it, maybe it’s only Norm who wants to go someplace “where everybody knows your name”. So I just lie and say my name is Sam.
But one day I got caught when I was ordering coffee with my husband in tow (his name happens to be Phil…something you might see on a bowling shirt or a mechanic’s pocket but apparently he has no problem sharing it with any old barista). When asked for my name, I automatically said “Sam” and Phil looked at me like I had two heads. Oops. Then I had to explain the whole charade to him (and the barista and all the eavesdroppers in line behind us). No one else seems to be bothered by the whole thing. Is it just me?
Names are funny. I remember the ongoing debate on baby names. Phil likes traditional. I like non-traditional. He won for the most part. And to this day I rue the fact that none of my kids’ names achieved the alliteration that I so adore (see achieved, alliteration, adore? ---Which is maybe why Sam sounds good to me…). My family makes much fun of the fact that I swoon over S names that are unusual and nature-ish. For example, I was really determined to name my first boy Slate. I’m also partial to Sky, Summer, and Savannah. The kids just roll their eyes at me, except for the ten year-old who loves helping me think up outrageous names beginning with S that we fantasize about using if we ever talk his dad into getting a dog.
So if you hear someone hollering “Serendipity… here Serendipity!” next time you’re jogging through the park, you’ll know it’s Sam, and that at least I won the dog negotiation.
Needlework: Patriotic Cable Afghan
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