A ROSE BY ANOTHER NAME

We admit it. We hate our name, Billy DeWayne Wheeler. The name conjures up visions of trailer parks, long neck beers, and women with tattoos. OK, in deference to our mother, we do have a certain populist pride in the name, a lifetime of admonishing smirking teachers, government clerks, and CEO receptionists, “It’s not William. It’s Billy. It’s Southern.” Why do parents do this to their children? Is it the drug hangover from childbirth, revenge for the discomfort of pregnancy, or a parental statement that their child is special?

We are, after all, the most staunch defenders of parental rights, but when does the exercise of the first amendment cross over into child abuse? Here we have a the sad story of a New Jersey child who almost didn’t have a birthday cake because the local bakery refused to adorn his cake with the greeting “ Happy Birthday, Adolph Hitler”. That’s right little Adolph’s jerk of a father, whose own parents lovingly gave him the very proper Scottish name of Heath Campbell, decided to sentence his own child to a lifetime of abuse and derision, while creating a living, breathing hate crime. And as if dooming one child to 20 years of therapy wasn’t enough, white supremacist wannabe Campbell also named his two other children, JoyceLynn Aryan Nation and Honszlynn Hinler. (It‘s Himmler, you dufus) In a happy ending,frosted in delicious political satire, three year old Adolph’s mom got his cake at the same place she did the previous two years….Wal-Mart.

And to remind you that we are in the middle on almost all issues, here’s a piece on unique Africa-American children’s names. Our own children’s names? That would be Winston Wycliffe Wheeler (Wink) and Wellesley Windover Wheeler (Windy). Today, we have grown accustomed to our name and now tell people, “It’s Barack, not Barry, and it’s Billy, not William.”