You're a *lastname*, aren't you?

All my life, I’ve gotten the question (accusation): “You’re a *last name* aren’t you?” or “I can tell you’re a *last name* but which one?” or other variations along the same theme. I guess I always assume everyone gets questions like that. Last night I went to a local pub with my coworkers, all the guys from the electrical safety group. I was going to go home and get stuff done so I can go on vacation, but the Cat in the Hat guilted me into it by making a big deal about everyone from the electrical group going, and surely I can spare an hour to have a beer… yada yada. Fine. I guess I can spare an hour… and a beer does sound good.

Anyway, we get our beers and we hang out and talk. And then my boss offers to buy me a second beer (I guess he really wanted me to stick around). So he goes up to the bar to get another beer- then calls me over, I guess they needed to check my ID to make sure the Cat wasn’t buying liquor for a minor or something. So I go over and hand the girl my driver’s license. “I thought you were a *last name*!” she says grinning. Uh… she looks familiar maybe… but frankly, people only have to know one of us to know the look, so I didn’t even assume I would know her. I actually assumed she knew Neil, my younger brother, who used to frequent that establishment regularly when he lived in town.

As it turns out, she was the maid of honor and good friend of my sister-in-law Katie. Awesome. Haven’t seen her in years… actually just the one time at the wedding that I remember. I didn’t think much of any of this exchange… until I looked at the Cat in the Hat, who is grinning and looking really confused. “You’re a *last name*?” he asks incredulously. “What?”

How does one explain that no matter where they go, they will be recognized… or that you grew up in a close-knit community of people, so even the people you don’t know well, know who you are, or know your parents, or siblings or something. Besides the fact that I do look like a *last name* - there's no denying it. And we all look alike, whether we like it or not.

Naturally the Cat had to retell that story when we got back to the group- and everyone got a kick out of it. I just take it for granted I guess. Gosh, so many families I grew up with are the exact same way- we can pick out families from a mile away. But apparently in the “real world” or at least among my colleagues, it was an anomaly.

This morning I emailed a friend the story, and his response provokes deeper thought… “Sadly, the whole “you look like a ____” is fading from the culture (except in bizarre places like our parish). It is hard for a family to “look alike” when there is only one kid and maybe a dog.”

The sad part is that he’s right. I’ve never really thought about it before, but it makes me appreciate it more—even if people can spot me as a *last name* anywhere I go.