When I was bearing children, all my friends had baby name books on their bookshelves. I had one, too, of course. Expectant parents would pour over these books finding just the right name for their little bundle of joy. I expect that most people these days use the internet, but I imagine that the process is the same..... try many names, both for first names and middle names, and try them with the surname, all to be sure you don't end up with a kid with a bad name. (Who can forget the song "A Boy Named Sue?")
I don't know if my parents or grandparents had baby name books, but I know for sure my grandparents pretty much stunk it up when they picked their kids' names. My father was the oldest of five. Only two of the five go by their given first names. Now that I think of it, my only aunt who still goes by her given first name rejected the spelling of her name and changed it. The pronunciation is the same, but they take a deduction for the spelling. Overall, their success rate at naming their kids was 30%. That's a very clear F, no matter the curve.
My maternal grandparents did a bit better. They had two kids. My mom rejected her first name and her brother uses his. Score: 50%, still an F.
The next generation did significantly better. I'm the oldest of four, all of whom have drivers licenses showing our given first names. I have ten cousins. All of them use their given first names. My mom told me once that she and Dad really worked hard to be sure they didn't give us yucky names. Given that none of my cousins or siblings rejected their names, I guess my aunts and uncles must have done the same. From all evidence, they all did a pretty good job.
So - what happened? Nicknames. :) From a very early age, my friends all just called me Booker. I have no idea why it started. It was common place to call boys by their last names, but not so much the girls. Maybe it was because I was a tomboy - I don't know. But from the beginning, people seemed to just use my last name. It started in Pennsylvania when I was in 1st grade. It continued when I moved back to Oklahoma in 4th grade. I switched schools in 6th grade, and still I was "Booker". That followed me all the way through college and beyond. I moved half way across the state after college, to a town where no one knew me, and within a couple of weeks, people were calling me "Booker". (We won't go into the identity crisis that hit when I married!!)
Along the way, other nicknames came along, both for me and my siblings - and they all stuck. My little sister was born when I was in 6th grade (thus the move to a bigger house and different elementary school). As she learned to talk, she began with "Mommy" and "Daddy", of course. As she began to refer to the rest of us, I didn't "fit" in her way of thinking. Mommy, Daddy, Karen, Larry and Garry. One of these things is not like the other.... Sorry - my little sister was a Sesame Street junkie and I have that song stuck in my head to this day. I digress.
Renee started calling me "Karnie" so that everyone had that "Y" sound at the end of their name. I returned the favor when she was about four, and we named her "Ernie" from the diminutive form of her Pig Latin name, Ernee Ray. Her other family nickname came from my oldest son. He called her "Mean Aunt Bubbles".... Garry and I liked it, so we kept it. :)
I've saved my favorite one for last. Garry acquired his family nickname when my youngest was small. Brad had a pretty severe hearing loss during all those language milestones when kids learn how to make different sounds - so when he'd say "Uncle Garry", it sounded like "Uncle Dirty". OF COURSE that one stuck!
There's something comfortable about nicknames. Just a week or so ago, an old friend since elementary school sent me a Facebook message to ask me a question about mystery shopping. The message began, "Hey, Booker - " He probably has no idea how that made me smile.
