I've Been Living a Lie


It has recently come to my attention that my Christian name, the name on my birth certificate, the name of my father and grandfather, is for chicks. I learned this on typing my name into Facebook, and seeing a bunch of old broads staring back at me. I’ve always been able to relate to that old Shel Silverstein poem, “a Boy Named Sue,” for the sheer oddity of my name, but now I can relate to the gender confusion as well. However, my name isn’t just a chick’s name like Sue, but an old chick’s name, like Dorothy or Mable or Ruth. What the hell were my great grandparents thinking?

I’m not one to blow things out of proportion, but this has completely changed my identity. I’ve always suspected, deep inside, that I was robbed of being a little girl, and now I know why. If only the doctor had slipped a little when giving me my circumcision!

I did a little research on cross-gender names to gauge just how insurmountable my newly discovered handicap has been so as to emotionally blackmail my parents. Unfortunately, my girlie name has been a blessing:

“Researchers have studied men with cross-gender names like Leslie,” Dr. Evans explained. “They haven’t found anything negative — no psychological or social problems — or any correlations with either masculinity or effeminacy. But they have found one major positive factor: a better sense of self-control. It’s not that you fight more, but that you learn how to let stuff roll off your back.”

I tend to agree except of the effeminacy part - the Old Man has an undeniable love of show tunes, and I don't have much of a sense of direction. On reflecting back through my childhood, an unusual name is like walking around with a "Pwned" sign on your back. Someone says your name and instant pwnage. There's no come back except to cultivate a Buddhaesque sense that all life is suffering. To this day, I can't think of something someone could say to me that would offend me.

Speaking of offensive, Shel Silverstein is one fucked up individual:

THE FATHER OF A BOY NAMED SUE
(Written by Shel Silverstein)

Intro by Shel Silverstein
OK, now, years ago, I wrote a song called "A Boy Named Sue", And,
that was OK and everything except, then I started to think about it,
and I thought, It is unfair. I am, I am looking at the whole thing
from the poor kid's point of view. And as I get more older and more
fatherly, I begin to look at things from old men's point of view.
So, I decided to give the old man equal time. OK, here we go...

Yeah, I left home when the kid was three
And it sure felt good to be fancy free
Though I knew it wasn't quite the the fatherly thing to do
But that kid kept screaming and throwing up
And pissing in his pants till I had enough
So just for revenge I went and named him Sue
Yeah!

It was Gatlinburg in mid July
I was gettin drunk but gettin by
Gettin old and going from bad to worse

When through the door with an awful scream
Comes the ugliest queen I've ever seen
He says, "My name is Sue, how do you do?"
Then he hits me with his purse

Now this ain't the way he tells the tell
But he scratched my face with his fingernails
And Then he bit my thumb
And kicked me with his high heel shoe

So I hit him in the nose and he started to cry
And he threw some perfume in my eye
And it sure ain't easy fightin an old boy named Sue

So I hit him in the head with a cane back chair
And he screamed, "Hey dad, you mussed my hair!"
And he hit me in the navel and knocked out a piece of my lint

He was spittin blood, I was spittin teeth
And we crashed through the wall and out into the street
Kickin and gouging in the mud and the blood and the creme de menthe

Then out of his garter he pulls a gun
I'm about to get shot by my very own son
He's screaming about Sigmund Freud and looking grim - woo
So I though fast and I told him some stuff
How I named him Sue just to make him tough
And I guess he bought it cause now I'm living with him

Yea he cooks and sews and cleans up the place
He cuts my hair and shaves my face
And irons my shirts better than a daughter could do
And on the nights that I can't score
Well, I can't tell you any more
But it sure is a joy to have a boy named Sue
Yeah a son is fun but it's a joy to have a boy named Sue