Is Your Middle Initial F?

When I meet people and tell them my name for the first time, I get a variety of reactions.

“Is your middle initial F?” is one of the most common responses. Having a famous name is one of the reasons I’ve always used my middle initial W in story bylines. The name “John Kennedy” isn’t that uncommon. And there even are thousands of John W. Kennedys populating the country.

I’m not sure what the response of people would be if my middle initial was F. I have an aged distant cousin named John F. Kennedy who lives in Texas, where the president was assassinated. I imagine he has had many more taunts over the years.

Another too frequent retort to learning my name is, “I thought you were dead.” That always makes me feel good.

And of course there is the, “Are you related to the Kennedys?” inquiry. Yes, I have many relatives named Kennedy, I tell them. “No, no the famous Kennedys,” they continue.

Over the years a few friends have called me “Mr. President.” Since the last administration, others have dubbed me “Dubya” because of my middle initial use in correspondence.

For the record, I was born before John Fitzgerald Kennedy was elected. He was only a senator in 1958, and my parents didn’t name me after him.

As his memory fades, so do the quizzical looks I get from those who meet me. In fact, some young adults act as though they never heard of our 35th chief executive. “How do you spell that last name?” they ask.

Still Needing the Post Office

An Associated Press article this week (http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-ap-us-deadletters,0,790123.story)
says that nearly two months pass before the typical American receives a personal letter in the mail. Thankfully, my mother isn’t typical.

Living in a nursing home at 93, my mom receives four or five letters from relatives in an average week. I read these to her, as she no longer is able to concentrate enough to either read or write letters. For decades, my mom sent letters prolifically, mailing dozens a month to friends and relatives. I would receive about three a week from her myself.

While email via the Internet has pretty much killed personal handwritten communication, old folks without computers still look forward to hearing from loved ones through daily delivery of a stamped letter. My brother Dave and my Uncle Joe write to my mom once a week, even though Joe lives in the same city and visits his sister in person on a weekly basis.

The real champion letter writer, though, is my cousin Betty Ann, who composes witty and compelling theme letters two or three times a week to my mom. Betty Ann always has an interesting story about her childhood, our relatives or her career to tell. I think the essays would make a great book someday. But for now I’m grateful she has an audience of one, my mother.