Rahm, meet Raam













It used to be that when I told people my name for the first time, they'd respond, "Oh, like CD-ROM?"

Nothing kills me more than that.

Yet, now that I'm living in Chicago, the reaction has changed.

Instead, people respond, "Oh, like Rahm Emanuel?"

Yes, like Illinois Congressman Rahm Emanuel!

Today, I reported on a press conference being held by Rahm. (About what? Dunno. Wasn't listening)

I wanted to ask Rahm his trick for getting people to pronounce his name correctly. As a "Rahm," I'm sure Rahm has heard all the ways to mispronounce Rahm --- Rob, Ron, Ram, Mom.

My trick, of course, is to offer a different name entirely to strangers.

After all, I don't expect the ditzy 18-year-old behind the counter at Supercuts to take my name and respond, "Oh, Raam, like the U.S. Representative and former top aide to President Clinton?"

Instead of haggling with strangers over the correct pronunciation of my name, I make one up.

I usually say "Ron."

This normally works, except for the times when people mishear what I've said, and repeat back to me the wrong fake name.

"No, no. Not Rob," I'll say, "It's Ron."

"Rob?"

"No! RON."

Suddenly I'll find myself quarrelling with the girl at Supercuts over the proper pronunciation of my fake name.

I used to use the fake name trick when ordering sanwhiches at Seaside Market in San Diego. But after a while, I started to feel a little guilty when the guy behind the counter, Steve, started calling me by my fake name whenever I was ordering.

"The usual? Vegi on wheat with extra cheddar, Ron?" he'd ask.

At that point in the relationship, it was too late to correct Steve. And I felt bad. We had this great friendship built on trust, warmth and hummus, and here I was lying to him.

My friend Melinda's dad calls me by the right name. But he's just not so sure on how to spell it. Recently, he was asking about me in an email to her in which he kept typing my name as "ROM." Yes, in all caps, like CD-ROM.

All these things were going through my head today as Rahm babbled on at the press conference about... something.

Afterwards, I approached him, a big smile on my face. We had a lot in common, Rahm and I. We had overcome lifelong struggles with our names with courage, grace and humor. We had persevered in spite of the teasing. We had heard all the nicknames: Raamage Sale, Top Ramen, Raambino.

This was our moment. Two misunderstood Raams coming together in a mixed-up world.

I reached for his hand. "Congressman, I just wanted to shake your hand," I said. "My name is Raam."

"Raam?" he responded. "Like CD-ROM?"