Speaking of names...
My dad’s name was Donald N. Mehl. My name is Donald N. Mehl. Technically, I’m not a “junior” because our middle names are slightly different.
So, how did people keep us separate? I soon became known as “Donnie” by everyone who knew me. Oh...did I say how much I disliked that name?
Even to this day, and even though I am the 72+ year old, white haired, senior member of the “Mehl Clan”, all of my family including my sister, BIL, cousins, nieces, nephews, and all of their children continue to call me “Donnie.” I’ve never been able to make it go away.
To be addressed today as “great uncle Donnie” just doesn’t do it for me. Plain old “Don” works just fine for me now...as it would have back then.
A half century ago I should have legally changed my name to Zurk, or Torf, or Teek, or Zacc, or Xort, or some other less common name. Those names certainly have a mysterious ring to them, don’t you think?
Because I didn’t have the foresight to do that, now it’s “Here’s Donnieeeee!!!”