Satire V Presents A Personal Note: Farge McMenses on “I Hate My Name”

Editorials - 2008

I need to open up about how much I hate my name. Why, you might ask? Well, for starters, can you guess my gender? Didn’t think so.

My parents were named Fred and Marge, and they thought it would be cute to make my name a poorly constructed portmanteau, with no regard for the fact that they would ultimately release me into a society containing elementary schools.

The first day of class was a nightmare. We’d be taking attendance, and as the teacher climbed the alphabet toward “M,” I’d brace myself for the inevitable humiliation of “Ffff . . . Farjé? Farhey? Fjord?”

My classmates were no help, of course. It was a sad day when they realized that “Farge” sounds a lot like “fart.” That stuck with me through high school, and someone on the yearbook committee must’ve had it in for me, because the superlatives begin with “Most likely to suck: Fart McMenses.”

I even had to deal with a lot of insults that just didn’t make any sense, like when people would call me a “period blood Happy Meal.” That’s got nothing to do with “Farge” of course, but it’s a safe bet that it was my lovely little first name that singled me out for that gem. And Johnny Cash thought that “Sue” was the worst name you could give a boy! But then again, “A Boy Named Farge” doesn’t have that same musicality to it.

Fourteen years later, I’m finally ready to move on with my life. I’ve worked hard to overcome the abuse I’ve suffered because of my name, and I think that I’m a stronger man because of it. I have a wife now, and together we have two beautiful boys, Dick and Sue. I’m a survivor.

But I still hate my fucking name.

Back to Editorials Page

Back to Front Page