Fun and names

What's in a name? Quite a few laughs, it turns out ... 

Back in 1771, a Scottish bloke wrote the first edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica. The whole lot. All by himself. He should be a hero to us all. Or at least a little bit famous. But he’s not. I think I might have worked out why.

Because his name was Smellie. William Smellie. I can just picture William handing his publishers that massive manuscript, proudly titled The Smellie Encyclopedia. “Err, thanks William. We’ll get back to you. Our marketing people have some exciting ideas about that title.”

Of course, being a Smellie can’t have been easy. From an early age, I imagine every little Smellie must have known that their road to fame and glory was going to be a little bit trickier to navigate than, say, the Johnsons down the street. After all, no schoolteacher in their right mind is going to tell a bunch of teenagers about the achievements of someone called Smellie.

And it’s just a hunch, but I doubt we would have learnt nearly as much about the first Englishman to plant a flag on these shores if his name had been, say, Captain Smellie.

Which is why, for those of us with silly surnames, life can be a little unfair. Go ahead and laugh all you Smiths and Joneses and Nguyens, but I’m half serious.

We oddly named folk know exactly what people are getting at when they tell us our surname is “unusual”. They mean it’s the silliest name they’ve ever heard. They mean they can’t believe our ancestors didn’t change it back in the Dark Ages when they had a chance.

And, of course, only those of us with genuinely silly monikers know what it’s like to have a simple introduction turn into something like this:

“Really? That’s your real surname?”

“Yes.”

“As in, that’s an actual family name?”

“Yep.”

“You didn’t just make it up?”

“Why would I make it up?”

“Good point. So it’s not an anagram of your real name or something like that?”

“Err, no.”

“Where’s it from?”

“Look, can’t I just tell you my name without being made to feel like I sprouted from under a rock on a planet in some distant solar system!?! It’s just a name.”

“Your real name?”

“Arrrgggh!!”

If that sounds familiar to you, there’s a chance that you too have a silly name. And if you’re still not sure, ask yourself this: do you have a nickname? No? Could that be because your real name is so silly that your friends decided long ago that you don’t need another one?

That’s the thing about funny names – they make funny nicknames redundant. If you’ve already called yourself something funny, you’ve saved your friends and foes the trouble. Back in school, everyone assumed my surname was my nickname.

Nothing much has changed. Now, when people ask me my surname I prepare myself for a range of reactions, from a quizzical frown to a sympathetic shake of the head.

A policeman once took one look at my ID and said: “Now that’s an unfortunate surname”. He then proved it by fining me for jay walking.

Another time, a policeman said, “Well, at least your name’s not Looney.” I agreed wholeheartedly. A little too wholeheartedly. Since it turned it his name was Looney. Ah, but he didn’t fine me. Nice mob those Looneys.

Oh yes, and on election day a while back, I dutifully provided my name to the official at the polling booth and she laughed. She laughed. Then she said: “I’m sorry, but that is a funny name.”

What a pity Australia didn’t give the Prime Minister’s job to Malcolm Smellie. Everybody could have had a good laugh .

First published in The Big Issue.