Gordon is an old scottish term for "born on a hill", and was chosen by my parents in honor of a neighbor, Gordon Jones, whom the had great respect for. And, I believe that its a fairly good name. Eric is the name of my father and was given to me in keeping with the tradition of giving the first name of the father to the eldest child. Day is my father's name as well, and traces its heritage back along a snaking path into the past that I have neither the knowledge nor the wits to examine.
Well, now that that is out of the way, allow me to begin:
My very first nickname, to my knowledge at least, was Gordy. My parents and relatives, and I am sure even close friends and neighbors, all used it when I was young. It was around my early teens that I decided, quite abruptly, that I did not care for that name at all. Not in the slightest! What kind of a name is Gordy? It implies childish nature and a wishy washy temperment. That is surely not me. Maybe I rejected it as I attempted to reject my past. Whatever the case, whenever someone says that name, I am filled with loathing and despair. More often than not, I forgive these lapses, but that does not take away from my distaste for the name.
Shortly after that, I was called Sunshine. Oh, woe was me. I had not yet seen the football epic, Remember the Titans and did not know that that same name was given to a rather fruity quarterback with long blond hair. As it just so happened, at that time I was in the throes of budding adolescence and a new member of Craig County Middle School. I also at that time had long hair that I did my best to upkeep. In any case, it was a rather mean and unfair nickname.
In high school, I don't believe anyone really gave me another nickname. It was not until after I had graduated and gone off to the jungles of Belize that I received a new moniker. This time a playful name as opposed to something cruel, I was called Chim Chim, Chim to some, Chimmy to others. This was perhaps because I was the youngest in the group, and thusly deserving of the name of that little monkey who sat in Speed Racer's trunk. The name was given to me by Tom McNamara, one of the leaders of the wildlife group that he and his wife Marcella were teaching Belizean wildlife and culture.
Now, in college, I am known as Hans to a select few. My first meeting with these comrades, I supposedly appeared quite German, with blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin. And thusly, was deserving of a rather Arian name. I do not mind, I believe the name Hans to be rather romantic and manly, if not a little stereotypical.
Whatever, who really cares anyway. Call me what you wish (just not Gordy).
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