Journal
Sunday,Aug 10 2008, 04:45:14 AMBlack-Barty Winkum - A Boy With a Funny Name
Black-Barty Winkum:
A Boy with a Funny Name.
Clifford Latta
His name was Black-Barty Winkum with a hyphen between the Black and the Barty. When the teacher would call his name she would say, "Black-Barty Winkum" and the kids would always laugh when they heard it for the first time and Black-Barty would grin and raise his hand and say, "Here, mam" for, after all, that was his name. When he was very young , before he started going to school, his dad had told him that he had to wait a little longer to hear the story of how he got his name. He did tell him that he and his mom gave the name a lot of consideration before giving it to him and had finally decided that it was the right name for him and so he became, from a new baby with no name, a new baby with the name "Black-Barty" with a hyphen.
One day, when Black-Barty, his dad, his mom and his sister, Mary Jay-June (his sister's name was another story) were at the beach making a wonderful sand castle just out of the reach of the waves, Black-Barty said, "Dad, it's time for you to tell me how I got my name."
The family stopped their sand castle building. The story about Black-Barty's name was far more important than a sand castle no matter how nice or how big it was. The sand castle was, after all, just a temporary bit of family fun...while his name was with him from the beginning of his life and would be with him until the end.
The family sat down on a couple of large pieces of drift wood. His dad paused for a long moment looking at each member of his family. He smiled his famous smile, the smile with the built in 'wink'. Everything was sort of a joke to his dad and he was known for his keen sense of humor and his love for life. Some of the family's friends thought his dad acted too young, that he acted like a teenager; he'd always do kid stuff like riding his bike to fast or skating too fast at the skating rink; he'd ride a skate board and do it with a certain grow-up flair. The kids really liked him. "Well," he started, "It was this way, Black-Barty. You weren't born yet and we were having a wonderful, big block party baby shower for your mom...a traditional block party with everyone in the neighborhood invited. We put up barricades so cars couldn't drive down our street; we even had a band. Your mom was very pregnant with you; as a matter of fact, Black-Barty, you were born the very next morning. Oh yeah, it was also a costume party. Those who wanted to dress up could and those who didn't want to didn't have to. You know, very casual. We did, however, give a prize to the Best Costume." Dad looked over at mom and smiled a big smile just for her. "Remember, honey, Joe came as a roll of toilet paper and Douglas came as a note pad.holder." They both laughed. Mom said, "Everyone was writing stuff on the note books he had hanging all over his body." Dad laughed even louder, "Who was that who came as a hamburger?" Mom laughed, "Mr. Simson;" she said. "He was a burger with all the trimmings." She took dad's hand, "Remember, sweety, food costumes were big at that party. If I remember correctly we had a hot dog, a pizza and, what was it, a muffin?" "Yep," dad said, "It was a muffin." Dad looked at Black-Barty. "Here's where your name starts to come into the picture. The costume we all thought was the greatest was worn by a friend of yours and one of my very closest friends, uncle John. He came as Black Bart the old cowboy outlaw and he looked the part. He hadn't shaved for several days and he had a patch over one eye; he was wearing black leather clothes and he had two six-shooters strapped to his hips. He had big, black cowboy boots with studs in them. that looked almost like diamonds. Silver flashed from his ornate belt. He had a wonderful black horse that he'd borrowed from a friend of his who rode the horse in the circus and at the fairs, a trained horse with a magnificent leather saddle and everyone stopped to look at uncle John and the horse. The hamburger stopped to look; the pizza looked; the hot-dog looked and the roll of toilet paper and note books looked, too. Everyone stopped to look at Black Bart astride his majestic horse.
"Well, later that night we were sitting around talking and I said, 'Black Bart, are you enjoying our block party?' And he said, 'Well, I'd rather call it a Black Bart Party,' and I said, 'Well it wouldn't really be a party, it would be a Barty.' And he said, 'Yeah, a Black Bart Barty,' and I said, 'A Black Bart Winkum Barty,' and he said, with a wink, 'Good name for your kid.' So, son, don't blame me; you talk to your uncle John about it; he's the one that came up with the idea but I'll tell you the truth, I thought it was down right cute, Black-Barty Winkum; it has a built in smile. You may not find it overly amusing right now, son, but I think later in your life you'll look back and think, "Thanks uncle John for the really cool name. What a fun time I've had with it. I've met a lot of people, you know, actually stopped and talked with them because of my name and my name has brought a lot of smiles into the world...and when I look back on it, it wasn't altogether unpleasant. If I had of been named Richard or Bob or Bill, all fine names, I wouldn't have met as many people or heard as many stories or shared as many winks with folks as they smiled and said, 'Black-Barty Winkum...now I LIKE that name.' Anyway, my boy, I think you will have to wait until your a little older to decide what you think of your name."
As the years passed Black-Barty realized that his name had opened many doors and been responsible for the first words that would lead to good friendships and given him the opportunity to talk to a potential employer which would give him an increased chance of getting the job he wanted. Sometimes when someone said his name out loud like, "How's it going, Black-Barty Winkum?" People would stop and smile and sometimes he'd tell the story of how he got his name and by the time the story was told he'd have new friends and, maybe, a new girl friend or a new job. It was all quite exciting and it turned out to be quite a positive thing being called Black-Barty Winkum.
Kids, the moral of this story is: We have to go with what we have. Like in a card game; you get dealt a hand of cards and you have to play them the best way you can. And, sometimes during a card game, the cards will start to look more attractive and you'll say, "Now these aren't bad cards at all."
The End