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Homer Alaska - Oped -

Story last updated at 8:21 PM on Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Living with common name helps forge unique identity




Recently a half-dozen friends have asked me about a weekend writing workshop, Education 202, K-12 Writer's Workshop, being taught by an M. Armstrong at Kachemak Bay Campus. The KBC catalog has a quaint habit of listing instructors' names by first initial and last name, which wouldn't be a problem if I were, say, "R. Chiappone." Being the only writer named M. Armstrong on the Kenai Peninsula, some assume that this M. Armstrong is yours truly.

I am not that M. Armstrong.

I am not the Michael Armstrong who was CEO of AT&T, the Michael Armstrong who is a Christian country-western singer, the Michael Armstrong who wrote "Handbook of Management Techniques," the Michael Armstrong who directed "Mark of the Devil," the Michael Armstrong who pitched for the Kansas City Royals, the Michael Armstrong who died in the World Trade Towers or the Michael Armstrong played by Paul Newman in "Torn Curtain." OK, that was a fictitious character, and except for the blue eyes, Paul Newman and I look nothing alike.

I also am not the Michael Armstrong wanted for murder in 1977, as a nice Desoto Country sheriff thought I might have been until I recited my social security number, said sheriff having pulled me over on a lonely road in Bradenton, Fla., for the crime of driving late at night, and because he could.

I used to think I was blessed with a name just uncommon enough that I could be the only Michael Armstrong in America, or at least Alaska, or maybe the Kenai Peninsula. Apparently I was mistaken. "Michael" and "Armstrong" are all too common. We of Clan Armstrong have become numerous and, as one Englishman said, "turbulent and ill to tame."

Since the 1950s, Michael has been one of the top-10 boy's names. Growing up, there usually were at least two Michaels in every class I took. To avoid confusion, we Michaels negotiated nicknames: I'll be Michael and you can be Mike and he can be Mickey. At the 1975 Clarion Science Writers Workshop, out of 25 students, three of us were Michaels. None of them, fortunately, also were Armstrongs.

Combine the two names, run 'em through Google, and you'll get like a gazillion hits -- 773,000, to be exact.

When I began publishing science fiction, I luckily became the first Michael Armstrong to get in print. I thought no one else used that name until I saw an index of stories written by Michael Armstrong that included a story I'd never ever written, "I Was a Middle-Aged Werewolf." That Michael Armstrong fortunately remained obscure.

Google has made it possible for me and others to find thousands of doppelgangers. When I went to the Seaside Institute's Escape to Create artist residency, another attending writer looked me up, and when I met him, told me I didn't look at all like the image of a writer he found on Google, of a man in a turtleneck sweater. I hate turtlenecks, so I knew it couldn't be me. I Googled my name and found that Michael Armstrong was a Canadian poet, and the image was of him at a reading in Vancouver, B.C.

I am not that Michael Armstrong, either.

When I moved to Alaska and to Anchorage, I'd hoped there would be few Armstrongs and no Michael Armstrongs. That didn't work out. There's a Michael Armstrong, M.D., in Anchorage. One time his office phone quit working, and for about two days I got a lot of calls from patients asking for refills on their arthritis medicine. I think there are a couple more Michael Armstrongs in the state, none of them wanted felons as far as I know. Or writers.

So when I escaped Anchorage and moved to Homer, I really, really hoped I could find a town small enough not to have any more people sharing the name. It seemed to have worked until this whole business with M. Armstrong at the college. It would still have worked if the college had used his or her first name and the course hadn't been called "writer's workshop."

Well, with 773,000 Michael Armstrongs on Google, what should I expect? I've become resigned to the fact that I do not have a truly original name, unused by all but a few. When I look at all those faces of Michael Armstrong on Google, I don't see myself. I see widely divergent images common only in a name. My friends and family know me by my personality and character. The name is just a convenient tag, and unique only to a degree. Names do not give people meaning; people give names meaning.

Besides, if I felt my name wasn't unique enough, I could always change it to something like Zebediah Armstrong.

There are only two in Google.

This Michael Armstrong can be reached at michaelarmstrong.@homernews.com.


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