“What’s in a name?”

And Juliet said, “What’s in a name?”  Act II, Scene II – Shakespear, Romeo and Juliet.

Supposedly it is to mean that names are conventions and don’t have any inherent meaning or worth. Juliet is saying she is in love with a person, not a name. OK, cool

Yet, who does not have a name or call things by their name?

From the moment you leave or are removed from the womb you have a name. It is often something that has had a lot of thought, compromise, and argument gone into.

So, there you are, labeled and documented. You have a ‘moniker’ and will have it for the duration.

Some have mods, Anthony > Tony, Robert > Bob, Richard > Dick, Gwendalyn > Wendy, Elizabeth > Betty. Somehow some Jacks become Johns. I don’t get that one.

If you were born with a penis, most go through life with the same name or mod of it.

If you were born with a vagina, that does not always apply. For a very long time it was customary for women to take on the last name of their husband. Over the last twenty or so years I have noticed a trend towards more hyphenating and not changing at all.  

And that is why I am writing this.

Recently (as completely unlikely as I thought it could ever happen) I entered a registered ‘Domestic Partnership.’ The state of California, where I am, has this as an option for same sex couples. Keeping with the spirit of equality, not same sex couples are eligible to use/do/enter-in-to the arrangement as well. Same as marriage, it is nothing more than paying the state for their permission to be in a relationship.

When we printed the permission slip there was the option to change both the middle and last name of EITHER or BOTH persons. Hmmm. Curious. We could have chosen anything!

Being me, I immediately thought this was a golden opportunity to have some fun. My partner has licenses, registrations, certificates and other professional stuff that would be a huge pain in the ass to make a change too. That section, those lines were to be left blank on her portion.

I on the other hand have zero recognition by any organization aside from the DMV that would make the process difficult. Or so I thought.

In the name of humor, things came to mind. My favorite was Al Dente. Al Fredo was in there but not a front runner. Since my new last name was to be Gori, pronounced as it looks, the option of (cannot use this doc to change first name – that is another legal process)

Anthony Is Gori was also a front runner. Unfortunately, the more adult of us mentioned that there may be a time when I would need to be a bit serious. Like, if I do make the effort to get back into the wedding or death biz. Sigh.

Now, the more I thought about the idea of making this change, abandoning the label I have had for over sixty years, the more I had to ask myself why it was feeling like a thing I ‘had’ to do instead of just something entertaining for the few years I’ve left here.

I was named after my sperm donor, exactly, with the suffix II. For many years I was proud of the name. Liked the name. Liked the II at the end of my name. It became the flourish in my signature. I did however reject being called the mod. He was Tony, I am Anthony. Once I was out of the orbit of those that knew me by that, called me that, I began to introduce myself and insist on being called Anthony, ignoring the middle name aside from the initial when needed on formal documents.

Later in life it occurred to me the narcissistic, selfish, egocentric attitude, personality that would do that to a child. Saddle them with not a name of their own but your own name. It began to feel a pressure having to live up to or live down the association. For me, it became a daily reminder of how fucked up and dysfunctional my family is. I also had to accept the I was just as big an asshole to do that to another child. Saddle them is my name and a III.

What a dick!

So, a decision had to be made. It was no longer an option for me but became a need. The only thing now was to choose the change.

In conversation I mentioned to my partner that I had always been a big fan of the name Giancarlo. She was taken aback and told me she had chosen that name to be her son’s name, should she have had a boy. (She did not.)

So – there it was – fate or serendipity or coincidence – call it what you choose, after all, this ramble is all about names.

The permission slip was complete, notarized, money order attached and off to the Secretary of State of California’s office.

And, wait. And wait. And wait some more. Sigh. It would have been a two-day process had I chosen to drive to Sacramento. Only two hours but I did not make that choice so, wait.

It took about five weeks to receive the certificate. The permission slip was complete. Like going on a field trip in the fifth grade, the Secretary fulfilling the parent role of signing.

As of July 15, 2024, I am officially Anthony Giancarlo Gori. Preferred mod, Gianni although Giac is good. My trepidation with that one is it will become Jack. No bueno.

The process of becoming a new version of oneself is not quite as easy or straightforward as I thought. Nope.

This ramble has become more than long enough so; I will share another one, ramble, to share with you that process.

As always, thank you for stopping by and reading.

G. Gori