My father’s name is Bard. As in Shakespeare, or a medieval poet touring the countryside with his mandolin.

As you might expect, the name Bard is prone to typos. All imaginable name variations have been sent to my Dad’s home over the years: Bart, Brad, Barf. He’s even received mail with the letters reversed: Drab. Conversations about the singular nature of his name inevitably lead to the sharing of this experience:

Dad, introducing himself: Hi, my name is Bard.

Other Guy, clarifying: Bart?

Dad: No, no. With a D.

Other Guy, even more confused: … Dart?

* * *

My Dad’s oldest brother is named RJ (pronounced as the letters R and J). Though this name ostensibly was an abbreviation of my grandfather’s name, Russell Johnson, my grandparents believed a person’s legal name should be their quotidian name. If he was to go by the name RJ, then his official legal name should be RJ as well.

The name RJ once created problems during a job application. He wrote the two letters of his name in the appropriate field on the employee application form and submitted it. His application was sent back for clarification, as they needed his “full given name”, not just abbreviations. He again filled out the form. When the form was rejected the second time, he added clarification, adding the phrase “only” parenthetically after each letter: R (only) J (only).

This time, the application was accepted. His “full given name” was now entered in the system.

Ronly Jonly could start work within the next two weeks.