Nicknames are curious things, and there are relatively few opportunities in one’s life to either acquire them or get rid of them. Many of them are set in place at school and then promptly lost. Those who move away and go to university then have a once-in-a-lifetime chance to introduce themselves as “I’m Pete, but you can call me ‘Bulldog'” or something similar. The only other times you get to do this are when you start a new job, or move to a new area. And even then, coming up with a nickname for yourself always seems somewhat… well, douchey.
The best nicknames emerge organically; they just happen. And then, good or bad, you’re stuck with it amongst one group of people for a very long time.
I have three nicknames. One of these (“Angry Jedi”) was self-chosen—well, technically, it was a joint effort between me and the buddy I was teacher training with at the time. We were called “Angry Jedi” collectively, as our preferred method of stress relief after a tough day at the chalkface was to compose bizarre sample-based music, and of course we needed a name under which to “release” these tracks. We fell out of touch, and I’ve been using “Angry Jedi” or variants around the Internet ever since. Except on Xbox LIVE, where some asshole got there first.
“Angry Jedi” was actually the latest nickname I acquired, however. I have two earlier ones which still get rolled out occasionally when I’m with a specific group of people.
The first of these—”Helmu”—came about when I went to the Edinburgh Festival with the Southampton University Theatre Group in 2000. We were taking Turgenev’s tragic love story “A Month In The Country” up to the Festival Fringe and performing it in the open air in Edinburgh’s botanical gardens. The play went well but was something of a commercial flop—well, you try convincing people that sitting outside in the cold Scottish weather to watch a “tragic Russian love story” is what they want to do, when there’s a lot of comedy on in the warm with bars nearby—but the nickname “Helmu” was nothing to do with the play itself. No, instead it was to do with one of our evening’s activities. Someone had had the foresight to bring a PlayStation with them (the original PSX, oh yes indeed) including a copy of Track & Field. I elected to play as Germany, and as everybody knows, the most amusing name in the Deutsche Grosse Kindernamebuch is Helmut. So I chose to call my character “Helmut”. Unfortunately there weren’t enough letters, so my player was known as “Helmu”. This name then stuck for the next ten years.
The second name was also the work of the Southampton University Theatre Group. “Beast Man”. Yes, I have the dubious honour of being occasionally referred to as a character from He-Man. The reason for my being dubbed “Beast Man” was due to my role co-directing a production of Twelfth Night for the group. At least, I was originally co-directing it with my friend Krissie. However, one day I got an email from Krissie saying that she was off snowboarding and would I mind awfully directing the whole play?
I had never directed a play before. The experience caused a not-inconsiderable amount of stress, which manifested itself as forgetting to shave and occasionally bleeding copiously from the nose. Both of these things were seen as somewhat Beastly, as my unshaven visage bore something of a resemblance to this gentleman here, albeit somewhat less ginger.
This nickname also stuck for the next ten years. Although I can’t say it isn’t strangely satisfying to be greeted by ex-members of the Theatre Group as “Ah! Beast!”
So how about you lot? Some of you out there have usernames that obviously mean something to you. C’mon, share some stories. OH GO ON. I’ll give you cake*.
* offer of provision of cake subject to withdrawal at any time.
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I’m pretty sure that you forgot to mention couple other nicknames in that post. I understand why you chose to leave them out.
Then by all means, “Don”, feel free to share. 🙂
Fine. I’ll play.
Feenwager: means absolutely nothing. It literally spewed from random whacks on a keyboard when I needed a name for a fictitious baseball team for a game of Tony LaRussa baseball I was playing with my roommates.
Konrad Beezo: Is the name of an evil clown from Dean Koontz’ Life Expectancy, one of my favorite books. It’s a cool sounding name, and it’s an EVIL CLOWN. As if there were any other kind.
JP: My initials. Duh.
Feenwager I knew. Konrad Beezo I can’t remember if I knew, but that’s cool. JP I had kind of figured out. 🙂
Do people actually call you those things anywhere other than online? I have never used Helmu and Beast Man online, actually, but people do call me them to my face.
I do frequently get called JP in real life, not so much the other two.
My nickname I usually get at work is Big J. We have a lot of J names there and well…I’m the biggest.
My name is a nickname. My actual name, Armand, was sort of treated as a nickname when I was doing theater in college. Sometimes I have weird identity crises wherein I ponder that I don’t “have” a name, but just a nickname. Then I remember that I never really liked the name Armand and that A.J. in infinitely cooler.
Ajguy just came about as me needing an AOL screename. I’m A.J. and a guy, so it came about kinda naturally.
There’s also the various variants of AJ. Age, eggs (only one person calls me that), aj, and ace (Which only the kids from kindergaten called me. It’s fun, cause when I run in to them these days, they’ll still call me ace).
Like A.J., my online alias (zegolf) was an amalgam of names used almost 20 years ago when my family finally cracked down and signed up for (gasp) dial-up AOL. It’s just sort of stuck. I had friends in college that didn’t even realize that “zegolf” wasn’t my real name. Ah…the good old days.
My nickname in the latter years of college was “Old Balls” because I stuck around so long in my fraternity, I was older than most of the guys and…because I have balls. I even have a shirt with “Old Balls” on the back. Try wearing that one in public.
The only other nickname I have now is something that my family calls me, “Junior,” which is ironic, considering I’m not a junior at all. It’s a mix of our central-Pennsylvania red-neck and Indiana Jones (we named the DOG Indiana).