Barley anyone in the country seems to go by thier own name.
I
learnt this rule early in life when I found out my rural grandfather
Don's real name was Matthew Gordon...do you get the connection? Hmm
neither did I.
And after further research - as a wise
eight-year-old - I discovered my other grand parents Molly and Bob were
actually christened Catherine Mary and Robert John.
It
was of course a sign of the era they were born in, but soon enough all
my brothers and sisters all had thier own nickname, as did the Norwegian
exchange student who was living with our neighbour.
They couldn't pronounce his name so they just called him Ryan, yep a pretty decent nickname.
 |
| Even these adorable young boys (my cousins) eventually get nick names |
My cousins might as well have changed thier names by
deed poll because they don't answer to anything other than Beano and
Chaddy - nothing close to Steven and Adrian they were born with. Then
there was another cousin called 'Blue'...an original name for a redhead.
When I went to a rural university everyone got a nick
name, I still don't know 'Boots' real name but apparently he works for a
big grain company these days.
There are of course
names which are given by others that can't be shaken. Bucket is
one...everyone knows a bloke called Bucket, just don't think too much
about how they got that name.
Our Australian history is littered with folks who have nicknames: Banjo Patterson, Slim Dusty, Black Jack McEwen, Pro Hart and Weary Dunlop.
Just this weekend I met (yet another) 'Stretch', was told
about a guy named 'Buck' who I should contact for a story and found out
my mate Simon is simply called 'Super' by his family.
Nicknames are given as terms of endearment or to help you
remember the person (common in sport teams and very common in country
towns) and more often than not they are given to annoy the so named
person (and for some reason the most annoying nicknames seem to stick.)
No comments:
Post a Comment