In case you didn't know it, I despise the name "Lorne." It's a mess of a name...ripe for ridicule and rhyming and confusion. In the Jewish religion, you must be named after a deceased loved one. I was unlucky enough to be named after my maternal grandfather, Leon. My parents disliked every "L" name they came up with - Lee, Lawrence, Luke, Leon the Second - until my mother suggested the name "Lorne." Where'd she hear it? It was actually the name of one of her students (yes, my mom the 20+ year real estate veteran was once a teacher). So in actuality, I'm named after some poor kindred soul in one of my mom's classes.
99.999% of people get my wrong. Most misspell it. Many find themselves tripping over it as if my name were as difficult to say as "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers." A number, some who I've known and been friends with for more than a decade, still can't get it right.
Generally you can hear one or more of the following when you hear me introduce myself:
- L-O-R-N-E
- The "E" is silent
- No, not Lo-REN
- Not Lauren either
- Not Lorn-IE
- One syllable
- As in "Green"
- As in "Michaels"
- Rhymes with corn or horn or porn (oh how the kids had fun with those...yes Corny Lorney is pure genius...as is Horny Lorney. Side note, my mom used to call me Lornie...maybe that's why I asked her to stop? There was even a song we were forced to sing in elementary school that included the phrase "The horn, the horn, awakes me at morn." Think of the variations!)
You'd think maybe I'd switch to my middle name, but alas, I've been cursed with the middle name "Ira." Sure people would probably get it right, but "Ira" just doesn't evoke strength or purpose or recognition. Plus there was "cousin Ira" on
Mad About You. He wasn't much of a winner. Though Ira Levin did write
Rosemary's Baby and I do like evil...
Anyway, even if I chose to go with Ira, the odds of me finding my moniker on a novelty key chain or mug would remain slim to none. And it's doubtful the
Romper Room lady would have ever seen "Ira" in her magic mirror...oh how I wished she would have said my name just once!
I can't even win with my initials as I learned when I had them engraved on my bowling ball. "LIJ" also known as the acronym for Long Island Jewish Hospital. Sigh.
While I've been called everything from Lauren to Lance, from Alpo (thanks Lorne Green for endorsing such a terrific product!) to Lawnmower, my favorite name story has to be from my high school math class. My teacher, Ms. Murray, had a bit of a speech impediment. OK, that's an understatement...she spoke like Elmer Fudd. Imagine having your teacher instruct you on things like "fwactions." Good times. Anyway, she called me "Jeff." I figured she just couldn't pronounce my name as it'd come out "Wawn" or maybe she was doing a play on my last name, "Jaffe." Turns out neither was the case.
At parent-teacher conference, my mom asked Ms. Muwwy why she called me Jeff. "I get him confused with Jeff who sits in the fwont," she said. That was a satisfactory enough answer for my parents so when they got home, they nonchalantly conveyed this information that was supposed to finally solve my mystery of mistaken identity.
"That's great, mom," I said. "Only problem is...Jeff's black!"
Maybe I should change my name to Max...Max Power. Hey, it worked for Homer Simpson once!
