About This Blog

"Nice to meet you, Jerry."

That, dear reader, sums up a lifetime of confusion, all stemming from one inexplicable moment following my arrival on the planet when my parents, for reasons known only to them and now long forgotten or perhaps never fully understood, decided to name me "Gerry" but pronounce it "Gary."

A simple act, accomplished in a moment, but permenantly enscribed on a legal document that henceforth and forevermore would follow me the rest of my days, adorning my neck like that albatross from "Rime of the Ancient Mariner."

"What's in a name ..." the poets have mused over the ages. Quite a bit is the answer if your name is spelled one way and pronounced another. Immediately correcting someone is a great way to start a conversation with prospective employers, friends, teachers, doctors, total strangers.

In my case, it isn't restricted to the first name. "Barker" is straightforward enough you would think. Notso. For some strange reason, many people look past the first "r" and "Barker" becomes "Baker" or something altogether different.

Classic example:

My elderly high school Latin teacher (someone suggested she was so good at her job because Latin was no doubt the language spoken when she was a girl) surveyed our class and announced the next person to read aloud a translation of "Caesar's Gallic Wars" would be ... Jerry Barber.

Of course I kept quiet ... no one by that name here.

After years of explanations, corrections and excessive sighing, I am fairly well resigned to it all by now. To the point that I usually take the time to set the record straight about half the time. Engaging in a lengthy conversation with a customer service rep about why your name is spelled "G-e-r-r-y" but pronouned "G-a-r-y" just takes too much energy, time and effort.

Oddly enough, one co-worker never had the "Gerry/Gary" issue. She just called me "Steve." Why? "Because you just look like a Steve."

Which is why I choose to name this blog Gerry Prounounced Gary. For everyone reading this I haven't met, and anyone who stumbles across it in the future, we get the whole name thing out of the way right off the bat.

BTW -- my wonderful, adoring and resourceful spouse Pamela (can't get that one wrong) -- came up with the idea to call me "Gaz." Because in the UK if you are named "Gary" your nickname is "Gaz." So that's become my adopted name.

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