...even though this little guy's name is C. Michael Cook. I found him while I was vainly Googling myself. Apparently this picture was taken right after his first communion, and I can't say he looks very happy to have just received the body and blood of Christ.
The blog I found him on is a little bit creepy, even though it's all about Catholicism. When I first saw it I thought I'd stumbled onto some kind of secret religious society, but it's really just a guy named Charles Michael Cook doling out Novenas and Hail Marys to the faithful on a daily basis.
Michael Cook is not a name like John Smith, but there are a lot of them just the same. Eight in Chicago alone, which would make tracking me down a frustrating but not hopeless endeavor, if anyone out there is entertaining the idea.
One Saturday night when I was fourteen and home alone, I decided to call directory assistance in different cities and ask for myself. I got in touch with one Michael Cook in New York. I explained to him what I was doing and he recommended I see a shrink. Not only have I taken his advice numerous times over the years, but I also wrote a one-man play about it when I was in college.
There's a Michael Cook in Toronto who's a photographer and designer, a Michael Cook in Texas who's big in real estate, a Michael Cook who's written numerous book on Islamic history, a Michael Cook who's fairly good-looking and sings Christian music, a Michael Cook who was a British playwright, and even a Michael Cook in Albuquerque who painted twelve portraits of men who are also named Michael Cook.
Having the name Michael Cook makes doing things like finding decent URLs a challenge. Or distinguishing yourself from the pack. Sometimes I get angry calls from collection agencies, because there's a Michael Cook who doesn't like paying his bills. He may be the same one who fathered and abandoned a son a few years back, who's name is also Michael Cook.
My friend Scottie used to live in NYC, and once when I was visiting him I overheard someone say, "Even if you're one in a million, there are eight of you in New York." But there are only six Michael Cooks in New York City, which I guess makes me one in 1,333,333.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
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1 comment:
I've never thought of the commonality of other folks names, just mine own. John Jacobs. My father is named John Jacobs. My grandfather was named John Jacobs. But I'm not a third. We all have our own, individual middle names. Hornor. Howze. Dee.
And there's the song, that actually states, "His name is my name too." That's depressing. I've got a song reminding me that there are a million other John Jacobs.
There's a famous golf pro, John Jacobs. There's a religious John Jacobs who rips telephone books in half for Jesus. I'm one in a million.
However, Maylene and The Sons of Disaster have a song called As Tough As John Jacobs, which is a nice counterpoint to John Jacobs Jingle Heimer Schmidt.
And brother, there's only one you. Ain't nobody like C. Michael Cook. You know, the one who writes the stories?
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