My First Name is Fowler

Occasionally a well-meaning friend will ask why there is no Fowler Jones the fourth. I inherited the title of Fowler Jones III. Once you've plunged the family into the pretentious territory that comes with appending one's name with "the third", then moving to the fourth should be no large affair, right?

I'll tell you why there's no Fowler Jones the fourth. This town isn't big enough for three guys named Fowler Jones. Our bank accounts have been mixed and our credit ratings tabulated incorrectly but we came to expect such treatment from monolith institutions that surmised that there couldn't be more than one guy named Fowler Jones. In reality it was the personal items that added up over the years that precluded my family from inflicting this moniker on another generation.

My Dad took great delight in embarrassing girls who called for me when I was a teen when he said, "This is Fowler," in response to their gentle request to speak with me. For him, it was all about the delivery, sort of a mock incredulous exclamation that always made the girl sorry she called. More persistent girls called back with a new strategy. They'd ask for "Young Fowler". That wasn't bad, but sometimes my Mom answered.

"Which Fowler did you want, little Fowler or big Fowler?" Thanks Mom. This factor by itself kept me from living in my parents' basement after college graduation (for more than a year).

There's also no Fowler Jones the fourth because even intelligent people are confused by Fowler the first name. It has a long and storied history as a last name. People loved the last name, but as a first name it caused great consternation and cognitive dissonance. An acquaintance might remember meeting me as Fowler, but invented a first name for me because they assumed Fowler was my last name.

"I thought you were Jim Fowler," a well-meaning friend said, as if they paid me a compliment. They're really saving face. That's okay. When you have a name like Fowler you have to cut people some slack. This extended to the other members of the not-so-common F-family of first/last names. I've answered to Foster and Forrest. During my disc jockey years, a person called me "Father". I'm not a priest, but God bless you anyway.

"Is that a family name?" is a polite way of saying they hope it's a family name otherwise I really got screwed. Another popular question is "Do you have a nickname?" As if nobody named Fowler ever wanted to admit it. I had nicknames over the years: FJ, Birdman, Young Chad Casey. I think they were all given to me out of affection rather than obfuscation.

I like Fowler in spite of the trouble it caused me. It's a nice compliment to the uber-common Jones. I'm good to go as a basketball player, adventurer, or pimp. Its got nice balance with two syllables up front, and a single syllable in back. There may not be a novelty coffee mug with my name on it in the gift shop at Stuckey's, but I'm okay with the one that says "Future President" or "Gangster of Love".

But there will be no Fowler Jones the fourth. This much is settled. I gave my kid a fresh start. His name is Skyler.

Oh sure, there are some girls out there named Skyler and some of them are strippers, but that's another story. One day he'll thank me for his name, and for declining to carry on a family tradition by naming him after me. He won't realize he escaped fate twice. I could have saddled him with my middle name: Crittenden.

You see, Fowler isn't so bad after all.