'Anybody here named Joe something-or-other??

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It seems to me that not many people have nicknames anymore.|ret||ret||tab|

I'm not talking about Bob, Bill, Charlie, Chuck, even Joe. Nor am I talking about Cathy, Kathy, Margie or Maggie. Vari-ations of given names aren't actually nicknames. Nicknames fading from the landscape are such monikers as Slim, Pee Wee, Red, Lucky, Lefty, Skip-per, Blondie, Buster, Butch, Buddy, Nellie, Gertie, and so on. I realize that some nicknames may actually be on some birth certificates, but most are likely assumed by folks who didn't like their given names. |ret||ret||tab|

A man not named Abraham might go through life as Abe; a woman not named Martha might be Marty. I once knew a Terrance who adopted the name Tom, not Terry. Those answering to a nickname, please don't write or call to chew me out. I didn't say nicknames are ex-tinct. They are just not as common as they once were.|ret||ret||tab|

As for me, I have almost always been Joe. Almost, be-cause two short-term nicknames were bestowed upon me, both acquired eons ago when I was in the Navy, the birthplace of many a nickname. (Contrary to what you might be thinking, I was not in the Navy in the days of wooden ships.)|ret||ret||tab|

One of these military nicknames was to be expected. Doubtless, anyone in the service with "Mc" preceding the re-mainder of their names has been, and probably always will be, dubbed "Mac." By golly, I was Mac, like it or not. I don't profess to understand why, but neither in the years before my illustrious military career nor in the years afterwards did one soul call me Mac. |ret||ret||tab|

With one exception, to be explained later, Mac was the only name I answered to during my four-year Naval career. Regardless of duty stations, ashore or at sea, I was Mac from the time I arrived until I shipped out. Upon first meeting, be it officer or enlisted man, I was Mac. |ret||ret||tab|

Once, I received a phone call from a friend who happened to know my real name; he thought he should be specific and asked for Joe McAdoo, not Mac. The person who answered was another friend; he had absolutely no idea what my real name was; only when he yelled out, "Anybody here named Joe something-or-other?" did I fess up. I was, indeed, the Joe in question. The day I walked away from the Navy I lost my "Mac-ness." It never returned.|ret||ret||tab|

In explaining the other nickname that was briefly mine, I am revealing a secret I have carried with me for many years. Readers should feel honored that I am comfortable enough about our relationship to blab my, until now, secret nickname. The origin was Navy boot camp, not the most scintillating period of my life.|ret||ret||tab|

On day one of my naval career, equipment for boot camp was issued to me, a shaved headed serf. My name was stenciled on everything in assembly-line manner. Anyone who has been in the military knows exactly what I'm talking about. Either by accident or on purpose, the crude and rude sailor omitted two letters from my last name, stenciled on the inside cuff of a pair of white bell-bottom trousers.|ret||ret||tab|

A few days later at inspection of our personal items, which had to be laid out with the name showing in perfect order (wars are won by men with shaved heads able to lay out their clothing in a straight line). The mismarked pants appeared to be out of sync with those spelled correctly, a serious offense. |ret||ret||tab|

The company commander, one of nature's truly gentle souls, spotted what appeared to be the out-of-order pants, with the miss-stencil all too apparent. His lower lip jutted out, forming a snarl seldom seen outside the professional wrest-ling ring. He grabbed the trousers, looking at the stencil with the missing letters. |ret||ret||tab|

He bellowed, "CADO! WHO'S CADO? I gulped meekly, "I'm McAdoo, sir." With his nose about an inch from mine, he again bellowed, "WELL, THEN, WHY DO YOU HAVE CADO'S PANTS? WHERE IS CADO?" |ret||ret||tab|

I'm pretty sure he understood the misapplied stencil, but it gave him the opportunity to scream at a recruit, an amusement he rarely passed up.|ret||ret||tab|

Cado it was for the remainder of boot camp. Whenever I crossed paths with a fellow sailor from those days, I could count on hearing: "CADO! WHO'S CADO?" |ret||ret||tab|

I've never again had a nickname. Wait a minute, some people have given me the nickname Rusty. I can't imagine why ...|ret||ret||tab|

(Joe McAdoo is former chairman of the communication department at Drury University and a Springfield public relations consultant.)[[In-content Ad]]