My name is Richard. As a child my folks and friends called me “Dicky.” I found it a little annoying until, as a slightly heavy eight-year-old, I became “Chubbs.” Much later in life I became “Dick,” which stuck until I met my third wife, Nancy, occasionally called “Nanners” by her friend “DJ.” Nancy refused to date, much less marry a “Dick” so I now just go by “Richard,” which bears a certain resemblance to my given name.
My brother was “Punky,” short for “Pumpkin,” a moniker he didn’t shake until he joined the Navy at 17. I suspect there was a connection there. My sister Karen was called “Sister.” She was introduced to my brother and me as our new “sister,” so naturally... Susan became “Susie,” and Pam became, well, “Pam” (the folks were in their 40’s by then, it was just easier). Yes, there were five of us, plus the folks, and we all lived in a tiny house with one bathroom (but that’s another story).
Speaking of the folks, my mom, Phyllis Marie Burbank Bernadette Hunt Farnham, was known as “Mickey” (due to her folks having a summer cottage next door to Mickey Rooney’s summer cottage) by all except her best friend “Millie,” who called her “Peg” (don’t have a clue). My dad, Willard Boyce Farnham, was always “Wink,” (due to him being short, and it being short for “Wee Willy Winkie”). Ironically: I never saw him wink, even once. His best friend, our next door neighbor and my best friend’s dad, was “Pinky” (he did have a bit of a pinkish hue on occasion). His wife Josephine was known as (no surprise here) “Jo.”
My best friend was Everette Joseph Bombard, BJ for short. I don’t know why “BJ” and not “EJ,” but BJ Bombard had a nice ring to it. My first girlfriend (sort of, we played house a few times) was Elizabeth Ann Densmore, better know as “Betty Ann.” This made her nickname initials (nicknitials, I suppose) B-A-D (hmmm). My other best friend was Wayne Bither; Wayne had no nickname but desperately needed one. He was too tall and too skinny, with way too big ears, and walked like Charles Chaplin (nicknamed “Charlie”). If he had been known as Rock, or Cary, or Kirk, it might have helped.
Two friends in grade school shared my first name, Richard. One was Richard Gillespie, nicknamed “Ricky,” and the other was Richard Douse, nicknamed “Dickie” (ignorance or cruelty, we’ll never know). Dickie has since risen to near the top of the Boy Scouts of America organization (true), a group heavily supported, I believe, by the Disney organization (maybe not). I also knew “Stub” (short guy), “Smelly” (selfexplanatory), “Poochie” (resembled his dog Poochie), and “Spot” (who didn’t, but had freckles). There was also Joaquin Perez, who, we called “Wahkeen” (Yes, I know, now).
In high school I knew “Squeezy” (you guessed it), “Spaz” (you could never, ever loan him anything you valued), “One Stone” (an unfortunate wrestling accident) and his brother “Little Stone.” There was “Wiggler” (couldn’t ever sit still), “Heifer” (it was Vermont, a state with more cows than people) and “Flem Wad” (use your imagination). Flem Wad was good friends with Jimmy Lyons, a giant kid with huge muscles and a mean disposition. He was the class bully, correct that, the school bully and had two prominent scars on his face. So naturally we all called him – James. Giant, huge muscles, mean disposition; HELLO!
What’s up with that?
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