Names can be tricky things. I didn’t ask for my name, for example. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with it, although it did take me a while to adjust to my middle name. For some reason, it left my teachers convinced I couldn’t spell Joseph, even when they could see I knew how to spell Christopher. I guess I have my dad to thank for that, seeing as he pushed for the name of an Austrian jazz musician who was a particular hero of his. Whenever I’d complain about it growing up, Mum would always remind me that Dad had been campaigning for Miroslav, which would’ve caused far more conversations about spelling when it came to some of my teachers.
The other conversation my name could inspire in people back then was more to do with my initials – CJ. For a long time, my parents’ friends would hear my initials and then draw themselves up a little and, in a rather grand version of their voice, declare ‘I didn’t get where I am today…’, which would lead to a lot of adults giggling around me. Being young, and not entirely keen on being laughed at, I would always wonder what was going on. It took a while before my parents had to explain that there was a character on TV called CJ who a lot of people found very funny.
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