PROMO People - Slim Randles

Home Country – What’s in a name?

Slim Randles
Slim Randles

Alphonse Wilson verbosifyin’ here, once again. Need to talk a bit ‘bout names. Some of you might know me by my nickelname, Windy. 

Now you might think at first that I come about that name ‘cause I’ve been known to verbulate quite a bit, and I have to remit here that I thought so at first, my ownself. But nossir … not the case. Years ago, ol’ Doc set me up to meet this nice lady from the county health depot and told her I was called Windy ‘cause my emolument of the English language zifted like a heifer of realism through our mundaniety. Perked up the circumloquasion, I can tell ya. Fact.

But that’s just on them nickelnames, of course. On the birth certificate aspirations, there’s a little scientificals in them. You memorate how mom used to call you by all three of your names? Yes she did. But she did it only when you was in trouble. She’d holler something like “Jeremy Pixilated Johnson, you get in here this minute!” And when you heard all three of your names, you knew you was in a pickle fer shore.

You see, appertraining to the use of a middle name? Wellsir, we need them for murderers, burglars, and assassinators. You know an assassinator gets to be famous after the deed, right? And ever’ body knows his name. You just take in there that Lee Harvey Oswald fella. The newspaper guys had to throw the Harvey part in so’s folks wouldn’t ask themselves “I wonder if that’s the Lee Oswald works down at the Gulf station.”

Of course, some folks are just nominatin’ly deprived, of course. You just take my ol’ grandpap for example. His middle name was nimmin. I seen it on them papers they give you for your obitulary after you die. Said right there “Constantine nmn Wilson.” I had to go ask someone why they didn’t capitulate the n in nmn, and the lady said it means no middle name. No middle name? Wellsir, then I memorialized that ol’ Grandpap was the thirteenth kid in the family and I suppose they just ran out of middle names about then.

So the outcome of all this is, if you don’t have a middle name, go get one. It’ll come in handy if you take up criminal actuarials or if you die.

Slim Randles’s middle name is Victor, but he was NOT named for a mouse trap.