So a loving friend sent me this here link to this fine site. The germane part, of course, is this:
Went to Amazon and plugged "Scott Peterson" into its search engine. There were 253 results. Two hundred and fifty-three. Some of them don’t count, since there’s a children’s book author with the unfortunate name "Scott Peterson," but most of them are about that Northern California guy who was convicted of killing his wife and unborn son.
Okay. Now I can see why someone would think my name was unfortunate, given that little creep what killed his wife and unborn child and who was all over the news for a bizarre amount of time—I mean, even without cable, it didn’t seem like you could swing a resting or perhaps slightly stunned cat without hitting a newscaster talking about the twisted son of a bitch. And I don’t mean to pick on the writer of this blog since, after all, she’s expressing sympathy for me and my plight.
But, you know, I had the damn name first. For quite some time, in fact.
I think I wrote on here a while back about voting in November and how rude the old lady who signed me in was. "Well, there’s a name I certainly wouldn’t want to have," she said loudly to the old lady sitting next to her. I looked at her like she was insane, and she just glared back at me, like I was the damn felon sitting in a cell in California. Bizarre. I’ve also had people tell me with pity, "Hey, it could be worse—your name could have been O.J. Simpson."
Great. Thanks so much.
While I’ve never really liked my name—the name Scott, that is; I’ve always been very fond of the name Peterson—I’m now getting to the point where I’m a bit defensive about it. Although very few people actually make jokes about it. Mainly they just ask if I get a lot of jokes. Which is really pretty considerate.
But now in my dotage I’m able to appreciate that it’s a well-balanced name, sounds okay, and looks classy enough in print, which is a good thing, since there are at least twenty million comics out there with my name in ‘em, and maybe triple that many. So, no, it may not be quite as catchy a name as, say, Batman. But I think it’s okay.
What’s more, there are at least two other writers with the same name, one a writer of joke books and one a journalist who’s written about his experiences in Somalia, Sudan and Rwanda. I’m thinking of contacting them and seeing if they’re interested in going to try to get the little punkass murderer to legally change his name; Punkass Murderer has a nicely appropriate ring to it, don’t you think? Or barring that, maybe we’ll just get together and kick his ass.
Since either of those options would require me to actually leave the house, of course, it’s mighty doubtful I’ll really do either. [Because, yes, that’s really the impediment to actually putting this plan into effect.]
But I can also talk big on Left of the Dial. God bless the internets.