What's in a Name
As a kid, I was sensitive and unhappy about several things, mainly my name. My full name on my birth certificate is Louis Kimbal Plummer. The Louis is from a high school classmate of my parents, ostensibly my Godfather, although I'm not really sure what that even means. He and my Dad are still friends today and I see him occasionally. I even worked for him for a while in the 80s.
My middle name, Kimbal, came about through British colonialism. Seriously. My Mom read Rudyard Kipling's book, Kim, about Kimball O' Hara (Kim), who is the orphaned son of a soldier in the Irish regiment stationed in India during the British Raj. It describes Kim's life and adventures from street vagabond to his adoption by his father's regiment and recruitment into espionage. After I was born, Kim was what they decided to call me, which was fine when I was a preschooler but when I started school it became a Johnny Cash's Boy Named Sue situation. As a nearly 60-year-old grown ass man, I know that there are plenty of men named Kim, but as a six-year-old boy getting teased in 1971, I did not know that. What I knew was that people I didn't even know were mocking me for something I had no say in, and I didn't like it. I had two reactions to being teased, tears and fists. Neither of those work really well in public education. I started school the week I learned my parents were getting divorced, so it was a pretty emotional time.
By the time I started third grade I was tired of the name and the teasing. I moved across several states to try living with my Dad and his wife. My Mom was remarried, and I didn't get along well with her new husband. In my new environment I decided to go by my full middle name, Kimbal rather than the diminutive. It was marginally more successful, but kids tease each other even when their names aren't anything remarkable and I still got some flack to which I was hypersensitive. More tears, more fists. more unhappiness.
After a two-year experiment living with Dad, I was ready to bounce back to my Mom and sure enough, I decided on another name change, this time to my full first name, Louis. Coincidentally this is about the time developmentally that kids stop torturing each other over their names. I was able to be Louis in peace. That's what I went by for the rest of my education.
I went to basic training 11 days after I graduated from high-school and in the military, no one has a first name. Everyone goes by the last name or a nickname. When I went to work in the prison system as a guard after that, I found myself in another situation that was last names only.
It wasn't until I was 22 that I found myself in need of a first name again. From the moment I'd taken my first drink of alcohol as a teenager, I hadn't been able to control my consumption of it. I was arrested for drunk driving before I even had a license. Then, it happened again about a year into my time with the division of prisons. I went to rehab, which is a place that health insurance companies send you to learn how to go to 12 Step meetings. There I was, at the Alco Club at 604 West German Street attending my first meeting. When they asked if there were any newcomers, I nervously raised my hand. I was invited to introduce myself by my first name and when I spoke, I just said "Lou". There was no forethought, no plan, and no changing it. Since August 28, 1987, I have introduced myself as Lou and short of any mental difficulties, I intend to continue to use that name until I die.
There have been some cool people, real and fictional named Lou. There was Lou Gehrig, the Iron Horse of the New York Yankees and Lou Grant, the hard-nosed editor on the Mary Tyler Moore Show. Wonder Woman only calls me Lou when she's talking to other people about me. The rest of the time she calls me Babe, or you jerk, depending on how I'm acting. My mother is stuck on Louis, and I don't correct her. I have one dear, sweet aunt who is nearly 80 who still, after all these years calls me Kim. As for the rest of humanity, well. I'm not a sensitive grade-schooler anymore and I really don't care what you call me as long as you don't call me late for dinner or a Republican.
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