My name is Rogers, a name that I know to have three variants; Rogers, Rodger and Roger. While it’s alleged that the first two originate from the last, all three of them are as valid as they are different.
Unlike Rodger and Rogers [which two have no other known connotations]; Roger has evolved to acquire different meanings most popular of which is the military and civil aviation radio communications usage that means “I have received all of the last transmission“. Like “Roger that.”
However, there used to be a time when the same spelling for Roger was used as an offensive transitive verb that I’m not so eager to associate with for a name. For this reason and the fact that it’s not my birth name, I’ve always insisted on the ‘s’ on my name. Many people have taken it upon themselves to offer unsolicited recommendations for a cooler variant for my name. “Naawe don’t you see that Rogers sounds lame and local? Roger is way cooler” they prattle.
Foaming with this thick revulsion, I’ve normally gleaned the serenity [thank goodness] to give a simple and sincere response;
“My name is Rogers; it’s the one I found on my birth card. I would say I envy you who got the option to choose your name but I won’t, coz I don’t. “Local” as you may find it in your all important opinion, I honestly have no complaints about my name.
But while I’m being so modest explaining myself like a pansy who has just been insulted, my sneering lips are quivering with restrained anxiety to spout something snarky like;
“In the same spirit of exchanging advice, I also have a piece for you. The next time you have an opinion about my name and I’m taking long to ask for it, just write it on a clean piece of paper [preferably sandpaper], roll it gently and shove it up your poop hole”
But alas, I’ve never grown the spine to speak my mind in response to people like this. Being the pushover that I am, I’ve given up the fight for my precious letter ‘s’ and let everyone call me Roger including Mildred and my own siblings.
But while I’ve been fighting hard not to get irritated by people who have either ignorantly, lazily, or deliberately refused to complete my name, Ernest has also been nursing related irritation from people who have earnestly failed to spell his name right by daubing it with an extra letter ‘a’.
Here is a snippet of his rant.
“…There is one problem, though, that cannot be lived with. It cannot be tolerated, and I know this because I have tried to let it slide and I have failed to. Every time it happens I feel things rise in my throat, thick, bitter biley things. I feel my knuckles quiver. My hair begins to shake. This is an item that cannot be endured. And that is the habit the internet has found of spelling my name as Earnest…”
Here is the whole rant.