If I remember correctly, you used to spell J.D. as Jay Dee. In fact, on your senior picture you signed your name Jay Dee. I found this interesting because I always thought is should be JD, as your name is John David.
So when did you make the switch from Jay Dee to J.D.?
When I as an infant, I was Bug.
When I was a young boy, I was David. (I still am David to my extended family, including Virginia and Tammy, and to friends who knew me only in grade school.)
During grades one through three, I was David at home and John David at school. There were multiple Johns in my classes (John Galen, John Kern, John Kyllo) and multiple Davids (David Sumpter, and another David whose last name I’ve forgotten). I became John David, and that suited me fine.
I was a squirrelly kid — no surprise there. One day in fourth grade I was squirreling away, not paying attention, and Mr. Zagyva was trying to get my attention.
“John David,” he said, but I didn’t hear.
“John David!” he said, but I didn’t hear.
Finally, he yelled, “J.D.!” and I heard, and I knew he was talking to me. From then on I was J.D. at school. I was still David at home for many years, but by high school I was J.D.
Signing my eighth grade yearbook at the end of the year, Mary Sanderson called me Jay Dee. I liked it. I adopted it, but slowly.
During high school, I called myself J.D. or Jay Dee, depending on with whom I was communicating. With Denise, and many of the other girls with which I was twitterpated, I called myself Jay Dee. I don’t know why, I just did. The Jay Dee thing died with graduation, though. It was just something I was trying on to see how it fit.
On the high school soccer team, I was Argyle, because I wore argyle socks to practice. It was my schtick.
In college, I was alternately J.D. and John, depending on the situation. I was J.D. to my friends and in informal situations, but I was often John with my professors and with the administration.
Today, I am J.D. to those who have any sort of relationship with me, whether it’s a business relationship, a friendship, or a family tie. (Even Tammy and Virginia have begun to come around, I think, though it makes me all warm inside when they call me David — they can call me whatever they want, actually.)
On official communications, or situations in which I don’t have a personal relationship with the people around me, I’m always John. I like the name. It’s simple and strong: John Roth. If I ever publish, it’s going to be as John Roth.
There are occasional instances of confusion. Andrew Parker calls me John, which bothered me at first. Now, I like it. Andrew can call me John. It feels odd, but right. Tom, the guy I work with at Quickstop Photo, calls me John, but we’re moving toward J.D., thanks in part, I think, to Mac.
Kris is Kris except when I am angry with her; then she becomes Kristina. When she was a girl, she was Tina. But, then, she didn’t really want you to know that�
On 25 October 2003 (11:30 AM),
Mom (Sue) said:
On 25 October 2003 (11:32 AM),
Mom (Sue) said:
On 25 October 2003 (11:36 AM),
Aimee Rose said:
On 25 October 2003 (11:59 AM),
Mom (Sue) said:
On 25 October 2003 (03:02 PM),
On 25 October 2003 (04:15 PM),
On 25 October 2003 (04:17 PM),
On 25 October 2003 (11:28 PM),