I have one of those lucky first names that allows its assignee to remain ageless and never grow old. ‘What’ you say, the Fountain of Youth has always been as simple as naming my children appropriately? Gee if my ancestors, had only known that in the 1500’s, they would have given the ‘Pants of Leon’ back to him before he met those Indians, and died from embarrassment (or that inconvenient arrow).
No don’t be silly, just because you are named ‘Billy, Johnny, Mikey, or Bobby, your child-like moniker won’t really help you live forever. To actually avoid aging, everybody knows you still have to get bitten by a Vampire. And I mean a REAL bloody ‘classic’ vampire, not one of those sparkly Hollywood teen ‘EMO’ ‘Nightlight book’ vamps.
To be honest I like my name ok, but it is hard sometimes to be called ‘Little Billy’ when you have lived nearly half a century and can inadvertently crush any chair ever designed. You see, my family going way back must have all been in debtor’s prison because we have endless ‘Bills’ in our clan. On my father’s side of the family, not only does my Dad possess the same name but his father as well. On my Mom’s side, I had another Grandpa with my name, an Uncle, and even an AUNT named Billie too. You can imagine what fun holiday reunions are when everyone rushes to the formal dinner table, and even with place cards, nobody knows where to sit.
On the up side when you have a ‘Y’ at the end of your adult name, bosses really don’t demand much from you. “Oh yes, Curt & Kent, Congratulations, I think you should handle the international audit of Microsoft! And - uh ‘Billy’ … hmmm?, … can you take Timmy and go check on what’s keeping those club sandwiches - Drew and I are feeling a bit peckish?” Now WHY I don’t know, but if you insist on saddling your spawn with a name that ends in ‘Y’, go with Bradley, Charley, or Rocky (or their feminine alternates ‘Bra, Charla, & Rockette’). While those names remain informal and approachable, they still have an ambiguous air of fast-food sophistication about them. Ok, I gotta go ‘cause there’s a clean-up at table 5. A dumb husky kid named ‘Wittle, Wee Wee Willy’ probably broke his chair again … but then again, I wonder why the boss wants me to take this mop? NOOOO WAAAAYY – wow this job NEVER gets old!