The Bad Name of Tony

A name seems to be a random thing. I can’t remember even a fraction of the names of people I meet. What was his name again? Dick? Bart? I forget. a_560x375But there are a couple of names which I have learned to be wary of.

Andrew isn’t a good one; it reminds me of of a few bug-eyed goofs and my boarding school days at St. Andrew’s College, where I learned the misery of life.

StAndrew_098_TZBut the worst name, by far, would have to be Tony. I’ve had the misfortune of knowing a litany of Tonys, none of them decent.tony-montana-jumpieI knew Tony when he was a student teacher, never doing what he said, sneaking out to smoke in his car at recess. I remember Tony the teacher, smiling thinly, never saying what he believed, acquiescing to further his career. I remember Tony the foreman, acting crazy, never listening, yelling and spreading vitriol to suit his ends. anthony-perkinsAnd I remember Tony just before he retired, never reflecting on anything, lashing out, as he went alone to nowhere: “Stop trying to walk me around the pond!” blue-truck-1I still don’t know what that means.

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