Jun 28, 2011

The Anatomy of a Nickname

Let's face it... nobody's perfect. Imperfctions birth a variety of consequences. One of which is nicknames. Sometime in the late 80's after losing a majority of my baby teeth to case after case of falling down, my permanent teeth began to take their place. A short time later I began to notice something a bit "different." An imperfection if you will. Others seemed to notice it too. You see my two front teeth had apparently missed the "quit growing" memo!

This dental tragedy paved the way for my first nickname, "Bucky!" The name was taken directly from the star character of the nostalgic TV series, Bucky O'hare and the toad wars. See pics below...





Now I'd be lying to you if I told you that I immediately accepted my imperfection for what it was, and didn't let the comments that came with it bother me in anyway. I hated the nickname, and every negative thing that came with it. I hated that my older brother Clint would always tell me to "get a file Bucky, and file down those buck teeth." I hated the small army of friends and family that would bite their bottom lip with their two front teeth over and over in a "chomping" motion,kindly reminding me of my resemblance to a beaver.

I can recall one occasion rather vividly during a Sunday dinner in which my older brother Clint and I were exchanging words. My parents told us to stop fighting repeatedly but to little avail. I was boiling inside. I think Clint knew this, and went for the jugular. After my dad said, "I don't wanna hear another word out of either of you," Clint decided that the making the infamous chomping motion with his teeth was not considered talking. Perhaps it wasn't, but I'd had enough. I flipped my lid! I slammed both hands on the table, stood up and said, "SCREW YOU CLINT! QUIT MAKIN FUN OF MY TEETH! YOU WANNA FIGHT ME BRO?! FREEKIN BRING IT ON DUDE, I'M NOT SCARED OF YOU! I DARE YOU TO MAKE FUN OF MY TEETH AGAIN! I'LL FREAKIN JACK YOU UP DUDE!"

The fight never happened, and I quickly exited the kitchen making sure I was completely in my room with the door locked before letting the tears flow. I can't really tell you when I decided to stop caring about my beaver teeth and the never ending insults that accompanied them, but at some point I indeed stopped caring. Years later, my other permanent teeth began to grow larger, making the size of my two front teeth less noticeable. My nickname however, still stands. Mostly with family and close friends.

Whether or not I should have reacted the way I did to being ridiculed for something that was completely out of my control is obviously up for debate. Want to know what's not up for debate? Whether or not I really had buck teeth. The pics say it all.... YIKES!



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