Of all the pen names one can think of, I understand my choice may seem a bit odd. (Unless you have spent any length of time in a classroom with me, or we’re lucky enough to be related. Insert big toothy grin here.)
Our family has a thing with nicknames. We like to give them to the chil’rens. Most of them are used less frequently (thank you Jesus) as we age, but occasionally they resurface. Boozy family gatherings are a prime place to hear them. That statement seems rather silly, at least for our family. I’m almost certain the Webster’s definition of family gathering has zero text and pictures several bottles of booze. Surely some of you can relate?
The family list of nicknames includes: Sara-Bo-Beara, Boo-Rachi, Re, Bird, Crow, T-Bone, Christopher J. Moose, and mine, Gator. It’s actually shocking that none of us grew up to be professional wrestlers or Nascar drivers. Keep in mind these names were created in the late 70’s, early 80’s. Who’s to say what the driving inspiration was?
Gator, to this day, remains a very appropriate moniker. Peaceful, toothy grin one minute. Lots of blood and feathers the next. Have you ever seen Steve Irwin feed a chicken to one of his crocs? (RIP Steve) Very similar, I just prefer to bite the heads off of people I find annoying. Fewer feathers.
This is a perfect example of why you don’t name your dog Cujo or your pony Widow Maker. If you want them to be nice animals, give them nice names, Fluffy, Daisy, Freckles, and such. (Trust me when I say Cory, although a seemingly harmless pony name, is NOT. It falls directly into the satanic pony category. Somewhere, in some language, it equates to the devil.)
Of all the nicknames I’ve been given, Gator is actually the nicest. When I started day care I would throw huge, wailing, screaming fits, and I was named Crabby. In high school I broke both my arms and had road rash covering one entire leg, so I was called Scabby. Side Note: When you are sliding down a cement sidewalk at a great rate of speed on your ass, you will immediately and with great clarity realize roller blading is much more enjoyable standing in an upright position, and shorts were indeed another regrettable decision.
In professional school I was stuck in a classroom for 10 hours a day with the same 100 people for 3 years, and I earned the name Limbic. (This implies I have Swiss cheese for a Frontal Lobe, where normal people have self-control and language filters… SO WHAT! Maybe I yelled a little every once in awhile. Big deal. We were a less than happy dysfunctional family. Trust me when I say I’ve seen people crack up under a lot less pressure.)
And that’s the story. Although Crabby and Scabby might have generated some very interesting Google Ads, Gator won by a landslide.