By Lisa Harris
Over the years, I have responded to a vast array of names. A name is a part of one’s identity. A name can follow you throughout life whether it is a good one or a bad one. When someone hears your name, you would hope that the response is one of positive thoughts and not negative comments. I think I have a pretty good name although I am not married anymore, so I guess I am borrowing someone else’s. It does seem kind of odd to keep the name of your X, but when there are children involved one would hope to have the same name as one’s children.
I guess it doesn’t really matter what I am called as long as it is not something ugly. I have been known as Lisa, Lisa Carole, Lisa Boo, Butterfinger, Michael, Kemosabe, Fish, Fish Momma, and lately Lisa Marie. Lisa is my birth name. Carole is my mother’s name. Lisa Boo is my parent’s pet name for me as a young child. It’s cute until you get lost and when asked what your name is you reply, “Lisa Boo” to the store clerk. Hey parents! Make sure your kids know who they are! I was given the name Butterfinger when I played on a boy’s baseball team as a child. I don’t know if it was due to my Butterfinger tee shirt I liked to wear or my catching skills. Michael was apparently my tomboy phase and supposedly I would not answer to anything else. If that wasn’t weird enough, I also had a phase of not answering to anything but Kemosabe. Perhaps I had seen too many episodes of The Lone Ranger. I’m sure my mom was wondering if I needed therapy. My maiden name was Fisher which can be shortened to Fish or Fish Momma. Presently I am called Lisa Marie a lot by coworkers. I guess it has a nice ring to it, but it isn’t my birth name. I still answer though. If Elvis was my daddy, I suppose I would travel around in a pink Cadillac or a jet named Lisa Marie. Presently, I am in a FORD and my daddy’s name is Don.
I think it would be fun to go to a restaurant where nobody knows who you are and make up a fake name. You could go on vacation and tell the hostess that you need a table for the Frankfurters or the Guacamoles. It’s not like they would know the difference. Then sit and wait to be called. It is the simple things in life that entertain me.
My dad once gave me two tickets to a dinner at the Beau Rivage. My son and I were to blend in and not cause attention since the tickets were for him and my mother. I guess he didn’t want us to get asked for identification. We wound up not going since we were not sure if we could pull it off. If given the opportunity again, I would go. Not only would I go, but I would make up a false identity. If I had to be Carole Fisher then so be it, but I would be the best darn Carole Fisher I could pull off. She would have an accent and tell stories of world travels. She would be a psychiatrist and talk of the knowledge of the mind and the disorders that plague the minds of many. I might be able to pull that part off.
I don’t really care if my name is ever up in lights on a marquee. There is only one place that I want to have it in print for all to see. The Book of Life is where I want to see it in bold print. Having my name engraved there ensures me life everlasting with the Father in Heaven. Is your name in The Book of Life? Well if you are unsure all you have to do is go back to your ABC’s. Admit you are a sinner. Believe that Christ is the Son of God and went to Calvary for the sins of mankind. Confess these truths with your mouth and ask Him to cleanse you of your sins. That’s it!
Now go and turn away from sin. Peace!