Alias Spike and Muffy

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There has been a lot of talk and concern lately about derogatory team nicknames in the world of professional sports. And to that end, some organizations have taken the bold step to discard those names. The Cleveland Indians are now known as the Cleveland Guardians while the newly christened Washington Commanders recently ditched the Redskins moniker. And that got me thinking about our very own nicknames in the world of everyday life. I have never had a nickname, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. As a kid, I lobbied hard for “Buzz” (I sported a stylish brush cut at the time) but my childhood pals wouldn’t go for it. This might have been for the best because psychologists now believe that most nicknames can have a significant impact on our emotional well-being. Yes, these seemingly harmless, often playful, pet names, given to us by family and friends could very well cause long term psychological trauma and distress. For some reason, the names Goober, Stinky, Shorty and Porky leap quickly to mind.

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My own family dabbled in the practice of re-naming. Case in point: my younger sister, Patricia was nicknamed “Trishy” before she reached her third birthday. My mother’s given name was Margaret but all of my cousins referred to her as “Aunt Peg”.

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Some abbreviations actually make sense; Thomas and Timothy are shortened to “Tom” and “Tim” respectively, while Michael becomes “Mike”. Richard, of course, should be “Rick” but sometimes it’s “Dick” which makes no sense at all – unless of course the Richard in question really is a dick.

And how do you get “Chuck” from Charles or “Dot” from Dorothy? And if “Will” is short for William – then what the heck is “Bill” short for? Oh, and could someone please explain the logic behind the decision to abbreviate Barbara to “Babs” or Henry to “Hank” or John to “Jack”?

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On the flip side, if your name is Elizabeth, you’ve got it made. You can choose from Eliza, Beth, Bessie, Betsy, Betty, Lizzie, Lisa, Libby, Liz, Ellie, or even Bitsy.

Nicknames are frequently chosen to avoid confusion when two people in the same household have the same name. Years ago, a neighbour’s family had two Richards. The father was known as Big Richard and his son was Little Richard (clearly no one in this clan ever listened to 1950s rock & roll ‘cause they never got the joke). But when Little Richard got bigger than Big Richard, Little Richard became known as “Rick” and Big Richard is now called “Dick” – thereby preserving the family’s established practice of never-ending confusion.

We find some pretty colourful monikers in motorcycle gangs as well. In addition to desperados like “Hit Man” “Psycho” and “Snake” – there’ll be a 400 lb gorilla named “Bear” or “Tiny”.

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And if you owned a CB radio in the 1970s you probably had a flashy handle. And when you had your ears on, the jargon was strictly CB “slanguage”. Truckers were “Gear-jammers”. A cop on a motorcycle was “Evil Knievel” and a “Kojak with a Kodak” was a state trooper with a radar gun. And if you happened to be following a “salt-shaker” – you were stuck behind a snowplow.

All in all, this shortcut lingo, along with assorted pet names, is a whole lot of fun.

Unless you happen to be a boy named Sue.

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