It’s the Pitts: Name Calling

by Lee Pitts

I have a strongly held belief people grow up to become what they are named. 

A person just knows a guy named Reginald Winfield III is not going to be a homeless beggar. He’ll more likely turn out to be an investment banker or a Congressman beggar.

I, on the other hand, have been cursed by a bad name from the day I was born. Did you know the most prevalent name amongst mass murderers is Lee? It’s no wonder I’m always disappointing myself. If only I had a decent name. 

Of course, I blame my parents for my lack of achievement in life. I understand why they named my older brother John, one of the best names in the English language. Our father was named John, as were his dad and his granddad. 

But how did they switch from giving him such a good name to naming me Leland Warren Pitts? Goodness gracious, I had two strikes against me before my first bowel movement. Thanks a lot mom and dad.

I’ll never know why my parents double cursed me with two names last heard in the 1800s, and even then, they weren’t all that popular. These days, a person’s name is their brand, and it’s all about marketing. In business, your good name is your most valuable asset. 

Do you think Baxter Black and Waddie Mitchell would have become great cowboy poets if instead their names had been Hieronyous or Grayson Monet? 

John Wayne knew he’d never amount to much if he kept his real name – Marion, which comes close to almost being as bad as Leland. 

I often wonder how many more books I could have sold as a Cody, Rope, Stetson, Ty or Clint – great cowboy names, one and all.

I suppose I should be grateful they didn’t name me Harry with a middle name of Arm so I could have gone through life with the nickname “Stinky.” 

I think my very first words were, “Please call me Lee.” But this was before I realized Lee could also be used as a girl’s name.

Now you know why I’m a big promoter of the idea a kid should be able to change his name when entering kindergarten. 

Personally, I’ve always seen myself as a “Tom Roberts” kind of guy, and if this was my name, I’m quite sure I’d have won a Pulitzer and owned a ranch the size of Delaware by now.

Speaking of Pulitzers, I read a lot, and one of my favorite writers is John Sandford who came up with an interesting system of name calling I fully endorse.

Because one father lived and breathed fishing, he named his children after outboard motors, so he ended up with sons named Mercury Johnson and Johnson Johnson. His daughter Evie was named after Evinrude. 

I think we should take a page from Sandford’s book, and farmers should name their children after tractors – for example, John Deere, Alice Chalmers, Massey Ferguson and Oliver Oliver.

If you’re a Caterpillar family instead, you could name your daughter Kitty Cat, although that name strikes me more as a female engaged in the adult entertainment industry. 

Kids in a trucker’s family with the right last name could be Ken Worth, Peter Built or Otto Carr. 

The animal industries offer up a plethora of possible names a good marketing plan could be built around. Can you imagine the name recognition of a red-headed purebred breeder whose name was Red Angus? 

And there are other breed names that would make good people monikers. Brahman is an excellent name for a future Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association cowboy, and if a ranch couple had twins, they could name them Angus and Brangus. 

Charolais sounds like a lovely girl’s name, and if a daughter already had the last name of Ford, you could name her “Her” and the American Hereford Association would put Her in their Hall of Fame.

Writers and actors often change their names, and I should have changed mine a long time ago. 

Heck, John Sandford isn’t really his name either, although I think he has a great real name – John Roswell Camp. I guarantee if his name had been Leland Warren Pitts, he’d still be writing obituaries for some smalltown newspaper instead of having written over 50 books.