Opinion: Average Joe uncovers stardom in stage names

A different aspect of the subject is how names affect the way other people see us. Is image affected by name?

Ordinary folks probably don’t think a lot about image. Like it or not, most of us probably stick with the name acquired at birth or find a suitable nickname.

On the other hand, entertainers must be as concerned with their names as corporations are with their logos. Name recognition, and the image it projects, is the celebrity game.

I’m fairly certain that record producers would have told a young Elvis Presley that if he wanted to be a country music star, his name would be fine. But to become a teenage singing idol, he should change his name to one sounding like a teen idol – something like Rickie Tune, Johnny Wilde or Frankie Comfort.

This would have been good advice for any young singer up to the arrival of Elvis. No one could have foreseen the coming upheaval in the youth music market. Elvis became the image of rock and roll: He was The King. He defied the rules for pop singers. Parents hated him, kids loved him and his name.

From Elvis on, rock groups in pursuit of the new image created all sorts of unlikely names. An early example: “Dow Jones and the Industrials,” whatever that means. The trend has continued unabated.

Present day modern-rock, hip-hop and rap group names have gone beyond the edge of sanity. To name a few: “Arctic Monkeys,” “Lil’ Flip,” “The Comas,” “Modest Mouse” and a group called “Gym Class Heroes.” Its latest hit is “Cupid’s Chokehold.”

To an adult, all that may sound goofy. But adults aren’t the audience; young people buy or download the CDs. Names and image are coexisting peacefully.

Rock-and-rollers notwithstanding, many celebrities have adopted rational names to enhance their images.

Leonard Sly, king of the cowboys, didn’t have the Old West heroic touch of his stage name, Roy Rogers. A cowboy movie star needed to sound the part.

The image of a sex goddess wasn’t conveyed by Norma Jean Mortensen. As Marilyn Monroe, she had that certain pizzazz. More than 40 years after her death, she remains the symbol of the seductive movie star.

The name Archie Leach didn’t portray a suave, handsome leading man, one appealing to both women and men. Cary Grant did just that.

John Wayne was the very epitome of the rough, tough all-American male. More than likely, Marion Morrison, his real name, wouldn’t have cut such a wide swath across the motion picture screen.

Bernie Schwartz was a handsome young man with coal-black hair styled so a little curl flipped forward on the middle of his forehead; he was loved by women of the day. He became Tony Curtis, and a star was born.

Comedian Benny Kubelsky thought he would sound funnier as Jack Benny. So too did Nathan Birnbaum think George Burns was a better name for a funny man. Both were right.

The name Judy Garland conjures up the image of a bigger-than-life musical performer. Her real name, Frances Ethel Gumm, doesn’t sound like a superstar.

Cher, the singer with only one name, was born Cherilyn Sarkisian. By dropping half of the first name and all of the hard-to-pronounce last name, she became a big star.

Roy Harold Schere Jr. doesn’t sound like a Hollywood leading man. As Rock Hudson, he became one. He also started the trend of the Hollywood-created name: Tab Hunter and Rip Torn, among others.

There was a time when thinking up Hollywood names was a parlor game. As a youth, I was pretty good at the game. A few of my winners: Stormy Knight, Rush Auer, Gail Force, Hitch Ryder and Misty Day. I could go on and on, but they would be just as corny.

Not being a celebrity, I can keep my name. I’ve always liked the image of being an average Joe.

Joe McAdoo is former chairman of the communication department at Drury University.