A County by any other name...
So allegedly, on this day, November 7, 1908, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were killed in Bolivia. I am led to believe they literally went out “guns blazing,” but what would you expect from guys with names like that? Okay, okay, nicknames. Turns out Butch was really named Robert Leroy Parker and the Kid was named Harry Alonzo Longabaugh. Not exactly screaming badass right out of the womb, eh?
But that’s the point of a nickname. It’s generally earned at some point in your waking life as a result of SOMETHING you did. It could be good, like “Old Hickory,” tacked onto Andrew Jackson as a recognizing of his inherent toughness in battle; “The Great Emancipator,” applied to Abe Lincoln even though his emancipation techniques were dubious; or “Buster,” given to one Joseph Frank Keaton IV, after taking a tumble down a flight of stairs as a kid and not crying or showing pain (p.s. Harry Houdini gave him the name. Look it up, asshole!).
Then there’s obviously bad nicknames, too. “Chemical Ali” from recent memory. “Fighting Dick” Anderson, a Confederate General during the Civil War. “Fatty” Arbuckle strikes me as particularly cruel.
Then there’s a lot of middle ground (read:cool as fuck no matter what)nicknames. A lot of these coming from, of course, the United States of America. “Scarface” Al Capone, “Machine Gun” Jack McGurn, Stu “The Grim Reaper” Grimson (hockey, not mob), Mordecai “Three finger” Brown (baseball), “Baby Sweet,” “Bones” and “The Guvnor” all graced the marquees of Jazz Music Halls in the past.
Nicknames can condemn you to a life of childish name calling, a legacy of hipocrisy and overall shittyness, or an unending cavalcade of credit being given to you, long after you’re dead. Hell, the best nickname could even inspire a pro wrestler to twist it a little bit to use as a stage name, and no matter what anybody says, pro wrestling is still totally cool.
So considering Moon County as a collective is PRETTY FUCKING AWESOME, I have taken it upon myself to assign nicknames to all parties of the Confederacy, for proper, awe inspiring purposes:
Aaron Waltke: Tall, refined, tends to make me laugh the hardest with minimal effort. Drops his middle name, John, a lot, but c’mon, we’re going to call the Godfather of Moon County A.J.? Get real. Oh, I got it! “The Godfather!” No, that is pretty stupid sounding. But “Uncle Aaron” has a good ring to it. It implies friendship, familial love and respect, and the guy who sneaks you a beer or two at your grandparents’ Christmas party because that fuckhead your mother married never lets you have any fun. Sorry, I got a little too into that. Also, “Uncle Aaron” allows for the rest of Aaron’s name to be filled in, if the news reporters or he wishes. Yeah, I’m going with that: Uncle Aaron Waltke.
Joe Rogan: Joe hails from the Munster, Indiana area, and this lends itself to myriad puns, but we need something better than that. And Joe is a hell of a name, able to be adapted really to anything. “Broadway Joe,” for instance. You see, the problem with Rogan is that he’s a really nice guy. He does play league soccer, though, so I can’t pass up a sports-type nicknaming possibility. He also lives on Quebec Av., so imagining his surgical precision with his midfield passes and taking the street route, “The French Connection” would definitely sound cool coming out of a play by play announcer’s mouth. I’m going to go with The French Connection, although it should be noted Joe already occasionally goes by JoRo as it is, and that has a nice ring and far fewer syllables.
Kyle McVey. Now if anyone needs to be named “Broadway,” it’s McVey, the handsome, babyfaced surfer manchild from…suburban Indianapolis? Well, Indianapolis is the hardest city in America, so he’s got some street cred. But man, what a ladykiller. Oh, he’s also got arguably the dirtiest mind in Moon County, so nicknaming him “Dahmer,” might actually work. Hm, no….no it wouldn’t. Hmmm….McVey, McVey, another great part of name-hood that begs to be nicked. Oh shit, I got this. You combine the birthright hardness of Central Indiana, his employment directly related to horse racing (and gambling) and his plush living in the “Miracle Mile” area of L.A., and you got it: K. McVazy (rhymes with Swayze).
Phil McLaughlin. Phil’s big. Height wise, he keeps in pretty decent shape otherwise. And he’s got INarguably the dirtiest mind in Moon County. He wrote “The World’s Smallest Obstetricians,” among others. Sketches that freaked me out, and I’m soulless. Phil also makes really good costumes and stuff, for shows we have or otherwise, so you could say he’s good with a needle. Calling a dude 6’5” “Needledick” probably isn’t even an insult, but I digress. Phil,..Phil,…he’s a great pal, a good drinking buddy. If I ever had something worth confiding in anybody, it would probably be him…he’s like a brother…and Phil and Philadelphia, well you know, Phil in the blanks. And he’s sometimes kind of epic and serious like a monk. How about “Brother Phil?” Or better yet, Brother Mac. Hell yeah.
Joey Reinisch. Joey’s our cartoon guy. He’s also married, so any nicknames need to be able to fit on 4th of July Barbeque invitations, or monogrammed towel sets, or whatever. He’s got “Reich” right there in his name, but that’s, y’know….. I can’t get away from the cartoon thing, he’s really good at it, and he games a lot too, I think with those headsets where he can talk shit to some 12 year old in Iowa while blowing the back of his character’s head out on some Halo ship or whatever. Using the onomatopoeia of cartoons from the golden age, and knowing Joey will soon need another Left4Dead Live handle, I’m going to nickname him Crash Boom Reinisch.
Paul Straw. Straw and I go way back. In fact, I think he’s the first guy I met who would eventually go on to be in Moon County. And we live together, so you’d think I’d have some good material here. But think about it, when you spend a significant amount of time with someone, the mystery and uncertainty of their legacy kind of goes away, leaving most nicknames jokey and sarcastic. But I’ve got one. Paul’s weekly post is called the Last Straw. And I know he’d love a name that could potentially be a comic book character (is already?). So I’ve chosen to nickname Paul, as in “The Last” Straw, Omega.
Nick Allen. It’s been said time and time again. Nick and I have a special friendship. It was his relatively half-assed invitiation to an audition in college that effectively started my friendship with elements that would form Moon County. We drove out to L.A. together, seeing the Petrified Forest, Grand Canyon and majestic Oatman, Arizona together. But a nickname cannot be too personal, so let’s look at some of the facts. Nick used to be an IU cheerleader. Nick is from Newburgh, IN. Nick edits for his day job. I can’t not give him a mafia sounding nickname. Since in editing, you “cut,” and I think I’ve seen him move his arms in a swinging motion once or twice on Branch McCracken Court, I want to call him Nicky Chop Chop. With a nickname like that, he’s obviously the muscle of the organization.
Eric Cahill. Cahill’s the spectral tenth member of M.C. In a way, you could say that he’s shrinking. He used to be a “healthy,” beer-swilling, cheeseburger slamming man made of America. But now he’s actually healthy, sips water and eats,…something besides cheeseburgers. He’s probably the only guy I know who looks the way God intended for every living male. So he’s fit as hell and could probably punch a hole through my less than firm abdomen. How do we nickname that? Smokin’ E? Not bad, but a little homo. Hm,…there was an old sketch someone wrote in college called Mt. Eric or something. And I was thinking, “hill” is already in his name. And he’s now as strong as quarry limestone. So why not name him The Crag? Fuck you, Nickelodeon.
Matt Loman. Matt is of Chinese and Italian decent, so right there we’re begging for another mob nickname, but let’s think about this. Matt’s also into comics, and gaming, and lately, I don’t know, he could be making a jump to MMA or something, so we need a truly epic nickname for such a good guy. Well, his last name sort of sounds like “No man” as in No Man’s Land. But if you rearrange the letters, you could spell “No mal.” “Not Bad” Loman? That wouldn’t fly in MMA. No Man’s Land, no one can touch him. Don’t fuck with him, you want to keep him “no mal,” keep him happy. Keep him merciful. Matt Mercy Loman.
Me. Everyone knows you can’t give yourself a nickname. I used to be called Johnny Ballgame, which eventually turned into Ballgame, J.B., B.G., and then Johnny Nutsack. (?) And then Johnny Python. Either way, my last name sounds so cool, it’s almost like a nickname in and of itself, so call me whatever, I’m one of the few who has a nickname quality name on my birth certificate. Or leave a suggestion in the comments. -DRUSKA.
12 hours ago
