A local artist extraordinaire often comes into the coffee shop that I work at. Actually, in Trumansburg, NY, a lot of artists extraordinaire come into the coffee shop. Some are struggling and others are established. Some are hobbyists and others are go-getters. Lots of creativity going around, which is a wonderful thing. But I overheard this local artist extraordinaire once say the smartest thing I ever heard about creativity.
"Style happens."
He was referring to drawing, but it applies to any creative work. I do not know if I will ever become a successful writer, but I can be myself as a writer and work with what inspires me. I sit down at the computer or at a desk, notebook readied, and try to force something. I always found the old writing axiom, "Write about what you know," to be a bit too naive. If we wrote about what we knew then entire genres could disappear! You can't say that Kurt Vonnegut would still be the same writer if he had never even gone to Dresden. However, real life inspires in many ways. We can fictionalize a real-life event by simpling swapping ourselves with a make-believe character. Or we can play on those real world events, building upon them. Chuck Palahniuk never spent the wee hours of the morning beating other men senseless, but the inspiration for Fight Club did come from the aftermath of bar brawl. Great research can help any book, and tell-alls don't always make the best literature.
I prattle about all this to say that some things always inspire me. Or they force me to put pen to paper. One is my name, and names in general actually. So here is something about my name.
___________________________________________________
Defense Phonics
By Garik Charneco
By Garik Charneco
It's a reflex. Spelling my name.
"Can I have your name, sir?" I get that, as probably you do, from tellers, shop keeps, clerks, cops, and officials. I also get the funny stare and the rustle of fingers struggling to find a pen and paper. I always have to spell my name.
"Andres. A-n-d-r-e-s." More blank stares.
I don't like the fact that I have to spell my name. It feel like I have to explain myself all the time, like I am on trial for having an obtuse name. My spelling reflex isn't practical, it's necessary. The Katie in your office is just a quickened Katherine. The Bill at school is a hasty little William. JC, JT, BJ, and all other initials are fast little things. The shortened names are practical. It takes a whole extra second to say Christopher instead of Chris! Screw that! Your office or school is a practical place, in the real world where time matters. Even negating the shortened names is practical. It's never nice to assume so don't assume I like my James to become your Jim.
However, my name, and all the other names that force their bearers to beat-box out the alphabet, are demanding names. They demand explanation and constant demonstration, like a toy dog that a super-model carries around under her arm.
Some people try, and I applaud the for being so brave. People reading my name off a list often do this. But they hardly ever get it right. They will try to salvage something of their initial syllables. I mean, look at my name....
An "a" followed by a "n" then a "d," "r," "e," and "s?" It's those ugly consonants in the middle. They don't seem to connect the other letters, but instead force the apart. People are then left to try and scrape up some sounds from this hodge-podge. They will cop off the "s," thinking that that just makes no sense there. It had to be an error in the data entry department. They will drop the "s" and then call me "andre" and make a mental note to check with the temps in the data entry department. In college, our dorm coordinator made signs for all the doors. There is Shamus and Nick's room. And over there is Ryan and Jamie's room! And this room, room 313? Well it is Chris and Andr's room!
Or they will insert extra letters, grammatical crutches designed to make it more palatable. Another "a," but this one behind the "e" instead. "Andreas?" Or an extra "r" or even a "w," turning my name into the anglicized version of it. A much more palatable version of it, mind you me. The "w" seems to bring a sense of closure to the "andre" combination.
Andrew? Why that is a perfectly understandable name!
Andres? What? Are there two of you or something?
My name just sounds unnatural, even in the mother romance tongue. Even with a guttural rolling "r" noise and the emphasis on the "e," my name still sounds phony when a Spanish speaker utters it. It's that combination of letters again.
My name is supposed to mean brave and masculine. I don't consider myself particularly brave or masculine. I consider myself annoyed and embarrassed. That is the big reason why I don't like my name. It makes me cranky and whiny. Did you read all this? See!?
Some people like my name, especially when I compare it to my fake name. I never went to many parties in college, but at the few I did, I played the name game. At that point most people knew me by my fake name.
A girl that is actually talking to me!: Garik? That is a strange name. No offense.
Me: Oh, don't worry, none taken. It is actually a nickname. My real name is Andres. A-n-d-r-e-s.
A girl that is still actually talking to me!: Wow, sexy name. I'd hit that, but not a Garik. *turns away*
_______________________________________________
Peace!
"Can I have your name, sir?" I get that, as probably you do, from tellers, shop keeps, clerks, cops, and officials. I also get the funny stare and the rustle of fingers struggling to find a pen and paper. I always have to spell my name.
"Andres. A-n-d-r-e-s." More blank stares.
I don't like the fact that I have to spell my name. It feel like I have to explain myself all the time, like I am on trial for having an obtuse name. My spelling reflex isn't practical, it's necessary. The Katie in your office is just a quickened Katherine. The Bill at school is a hasty little William. JC, JT, BJ, and all other initials are fast little things. The shortened names are practical. It takes a whole extra second to say Christopher instead of Chris! Screw that! Your office or school is a practical place, in the real world where time matters. Even negating the shortened names is practical. It's never nice to assume so don't assume I like my James to become your Jim.
However, my name, and all the other names that force their bearers to beat-box out the alphabet, are demanding names. They demand explanation and constant demonstration, like a toy dog that a super-model carries around under her arm.
Some people try, and I applaud the for being so brave. People reading my name off a list often do this. But they hardly ever get it right. They will try to salvage something of their initial syllables. I mean, look at my name....
An "a" followed by a "n" then a "d," "r," "e," and "s?" It's those ugly consonants in the middle. They don't seem to connect the other letters, but instead force the apart. People are then left to try and scrape up some sounds from this hodge-podge. They will cop off the "s," thinking that that just makes no sense there. It had to be an error in the data entry department. They will drop the "s" and then call me "andre" and make a mental note to check with the temps in the data entry department. In college, our dorm coordinator made signs for all the doors. There is Shamus and Nick's room. And over there is Ryan and Jamie's room! And this room, room 313? Well it is Chris and Andr's room!
Or they will insert extra letters, grammatical crutches designed to make it more palatable. Another "a," but this one behind the "e" instead. "Andreas?" Or an extra "r" or even a "w," turning my name into the anglicized version of it. A much more palatable version of it, mind you me. The "w" seems to bring a sense of closure to the "andre" combination.
Andrew? Why that is a perfectly understandable name!
Andres? What? Are there two of you or something?
My name just sounds unnatural, even in the mother romance tongue. Even with a guttural rolling "r" noise and the emphasis on the "e," my name still sounds phony when a Spanish speaker utters it. It's that combination of letters again.
My name is supposed to mean brave and masculine. I don't consider myself particularly brave or masculine. I consider myself annoyed and embarrassed. That is the big reason why I don't like my name. It makes me cranky and whiny. Did you read all this? See!?
Some people like my name, especially when I compare it to my fake name. I never went to many parties in college, but at the few I did, I played the name game. At that point most people knew me by my fake name.
A girl that is actually talking to me!: Garik? That is a strange name. No offense.
Me: Oh, don't worry, none taken. It is actually a nickname. My real name is Andres. A-n-d-r-e-s.
A girl that is still actually talking to me!: Wow, sexy name. I'd hit that, but not a Garik. *turns away*
_______________________________________________
Peace!
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