On Nicknames
I've picked up a few nicknames over the years, I'm not ashamed to admit it. When I was in the Boy Scouts, some guys took to calling me "Little Weasel." That's really not the most flattering cognomen, I guess...but I'll take it as one anyway, and assume that it's because of my ability to get out of bad situations (that I usually get myself into in the first place. Silence, you in the peanut gallery).

When I came to college, I somehow picked up "Weasel Boy." I don't really want to talk about that. Although...I will admit that I'm curious as to how two completely separate groups of people decided that I bore striking resemblance to a cunning, albeit rat-like, creature.

Wait. No I'm not.

In two separate jobs, in two separate time zones, I became known as "Brain," rather than "Brian," the latter being the name printed upon my birth certificate. Apparently, dyslexia is more common than thinkle peep.

At the phonathon, a pair of wiseacres gave me the handle "B. Lew," to reflect on my obvious street cred. Yo, why you always gotta be hatin? Haters.

Despite the names which have come my way, I can hardly claim the best nickname in the history of the world - there are a lot of better ones. "Berney Bravado" and "Shotgun Berney" have been hung one one guy, and "Gizzer" on a former roommate (you know who you are, and you're welcome to leave angry comments for my posting them here). Those are good, too, but still not the best.

People who worked with George W. Bush on a senatorial campaign for a friend in Alabama in 1972 concocted a great nickname for our current President: "The Texas Souffle."

Apparently, Mr. Bush "looked good on the outside but was full of hot air." (Read the story here.)

So let's all sing along, eh?
Hail to the exceedingly fragile and mostly hollow baked food we have cho-sen for the na-tion!
Hail to the exceedingly fragile and mostly hollow baked food we sal-ute him one and aa-all!