I think I'm decently tolerant of
some of the very bizarre names of people I don't know.
I think I might not be thrilled to
meet the self-indulgent parents of people who are stuck with names like "LaJarra"
and "Christmas" and "Moon Unit," but usually I lie down and
let the feeling go away….
The mangled middle initials first
showed up as a typo in The Atlantic Monthly, and Mr. Pancake decided to adopt
them.
Sorry, I can't help myself, I
refuse to wonder in silence about how to pronounce "D'J" and I ease
my conscience about writing this tepid, tentative diatribe by imagining that
you very likely feel the same way….
There, I said it, I'm done with Mr.
Pancake.
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