Saturday, 11 February 2017

RAMBLING REPOST: WHAT'S IN A NAME? ARE YOU KIDDING? A LIKELY STORY...




"Why are you called 'Kid'?  Is it because you act like one?"

If I had a pound for every time I've been asked that, I'd have -
well, I'd have a pound actually, so I don't suppose there's really much
interest in the topic.  However, I have to fill this blog with something,
so - assuming you'll bear with me in yet another act of shameless self-
indulgence - I shall address the issue in the forlorn hope that any-
body even remotely cares.

There was a period during my early teenage years when I
called everyone "kid".  It was short, snappy, and it meant never having
to worry about remembering people's names.  One day, I ran into a pal of
mine in the company of a group of his friends.  Anticipating my familiar,
well-worn greeting, he thought he'd get in first in a daring act of mockery
at my little peccadillo.  (Feel free to supply your own amusing rejoinder
to that last sentence.)  "Hi Kid!", he said with a cheeky grin upon his
smug countenance, immensely satisfied with himself for - in his
mind - 'beating me to the punch'.

His pals were unaware
of his intended 'irony' how-
ever, and merely assumed it
to be my nickname.  But ours
is a drama  decreed by the
fates to be acted out (always
loved that line by LARRY
LIEBER);  I subsequently
became friendly with that
little group, who - in their
innocence - always referred
to me by that appellation.
And so the name stuck and
I've been known as "Kid"
- to them and to others -
ever since.

But whence came the habit which led to me effectively naming
myself?  Why did I call people "kid" to begin with?  I'm glad I pretended
you asked.  Back in the early '70s, there was a brilliant comedy show called
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE LIKELY LADS, starring JAMES
BOLAM and RODNEY BEWES.  In fact, as they had alternating billing
from week to week, if you re-read that last sentence, reverse the order
of their names so that I don't hear from their agents or solicitors.

Although the programme was a comedy, it also had pathos, poignancy
and profundity - otherwise known as the three Ps.  During the course of
their frequent nostalgia-laden soliloquies, the characters often addressed
each other as "kid" or "kidda".  In my devotion to the programme and my
desire to emulate my heroes, I adopted the practice of referring to everyone
I knew (and some I didn't) as "kidda", which resulted in some puzzled looks.
You see, the words "kidda" and "kidder" sound pretty similar when pro-
nounced with a lazy Glaswegian accent, and this made folks think I
was accusing them of pulling my leg in some way.

"Kidder?" they'd say in a
slightly bewildered manner
(likewise mispronouncing it as
"kidda") - "Kiddin' about what?"
Well, it didn't take me too long to
realize that adopting the shorter
option -"kid" - would avoid any
unnecessary confusion amongst
my sturdy band of companions
and free me from having to end-
lessly explain myself.  It could've
been worse.  I'd once been in the
habit of exclaiming "Jings, man!"
in response to anything of even
a vaguely interesting or sur-
prising nature.

    This inevitably led to all my friends and acquaintances calling me
"Jings-Man" every time I appeared on the horizon.  Fortunately, I soon
dropped the use of this 'oath' (doubtless acquired from reading too many
BROONS and OOR WULLIE strips in The SUNDAY POST) and thus
escaped any long-term association with the term which could've resulted
in lasting damage to my delicate sensibilities.  I much prefer being called
"Kid" - or "Sir", even.  (In fact, now that I come to think about it,
"Master" is good as well.)

And there you have it!  The hitherto secret origin of how I gained my
teenage nickname which has remained with me to this day.  And you also
have an object lesson in the art of writing something about nothing - but
you should only ever do so if your very life depends on it, so I have
absolutely no excuse.

4 comments:

John Pitt said...

COMMENTS REPOST!
Captions for the above pictures:-
(#1)
Terry: The old leg's giving me a bit of stick tonight!
Bob: What's up with your leg, Kidda?
Terry: Oh, I never talk about it!

(#2)
"YOU'LL get yer money, YOU'LL get yer money!"

(#3)
"Thelma and I are NOT speaking!"

Kid said...

Bob: "I saw old Cloughie through the car window last week."

Terry: "You've got a car?"

Bob: "Well, I don't just have the window."

moonmando said...

You also had the added appellation at one point of,'The Coca Cola Kid',due to your enormous consumption of the aforementioned.
You've somewhat moderated your intake these past few years,down to just Three Gallons a day,I believe.

Kid said...

All that cola is what accounts for me being known officially as a 'fat b*st*rd' these days, Moony. As you say, I've cut down a bit, and now I'm wasting away to the size of an elephant.

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