Actually, it is Karl With a K

Many thanks to Shelli for another great guest post yesterday, as the Summer of Love at 2HT continues. She wrote more about this entire “Alpha Blogger” discussion that’s still going on. Tomorrow it’ll be the DutchBitch herself from the DutchFiles.

I also want to pimp out SecondHand Radio. Another episode is coming up on Sunday afternoon and my guest this week is the drop-dead gorgeous author of Sexography, Carly Milne. I won a copy of her book recently and wish I could tell you I’d have it all read before Sunday, but that’s not gonna happen. But it was Carly’s book that launched April’s grassroots book marketing campaign to help raise money for RAINN.

I have the feeling that we’ll talk about sex a great deal. You know, in between all the fawning and hitting on Carly, of course. I totally want to go out with her.

I realized that in my many detailed recaps of BrittCon last week (they’re easy to find…just click on the Archives above and you’ll see them), I forgot to include some photos. I mean, I forgot to TAKE a few photos and include them.

First is a picture of the cool stress balls (TWKS) I got in Chinatown. “For you? Six dolla!”

They’re very cool and kind of sing/jingle when you play with them. Much like my own balls.

Next is something truly amazing. As you all know, my name is Karl. My last name is Erikson. So it’s not surprising, really, that I’ve spelled my name hundreds of thousands of times in my life to date. Every single school teacher, every single nurse or doctor I’ve seen, every time I’ve registered for a class or a seminar, every time a friend has put me in their cell phone…always with the spelling.

There are different ways to do it, of course.

That’s Karl with a “K”.

Erikson with no C’s.

Karl Erikson – no C’s anywhere. (Which is most always followed by, “What do you mean?”)

Because as soon as I say my name is Karl, whoever is on the other side of the desk or phone starts writing “Carl.” I’m not usually quick enough with the “with a K.” So when I DO say “it’s with a K” they just put a vertical line attached to the C to create some sort of mutant K.

This used to bother me a lot growing up. For a while there, I hated my name because I hated spelling it over and over and over. I really had to spend a lot of time pondering what my domain name would be because of the spelling. After all, it DOES matter when you’re typing in the URL. I thought about secondhandtryptophan.com but that’s even more of a spelling nightmare than Karl. In the end, I said screw it and went with secondhandkarl.com. Obviously. And yeah, if you type in karlerikson.com it forwards here, too. Maybe some day I’ll do something with that domain. I doubt it.

Now I dig my name – it’s unique – and I’m really desensitized to the spelling. In fact, unless it’s something crucial – such as medical records or Social Security or taxes or paychecks – I just don’t even bother spelling it. If I’m at a restaurant, for example, and I give my name to wait on a table, I don’t worry about the spelling. It SOUNDS the same either way, so why spend an extra 5 seconds correcting them? Not worth it.

But one of the things about having a unique name is that you can never find any personalized souvenirs that are spelled “correctly.” If I go to Disneyworld and look for a cup or a magnet or keychain with “Karl” on it, I’m always left out. It’s not disappointing to me any more…it just IS.

Yes, in today’s world, I can easily personalize something with my name spelled correctly, thanks to companies on the Net like Zazzle. But it’s not the same as finding something in a sea of mugs that says “Karl” and not “Carl.”

I have NEVER EVER seen any personalized merchandise with “Karl” on it. EVER.

Until I went to New York City and we went through a souvenir shop full of t-shirts and magnets and mugs and all the other stuff people buy to prove they were actually in NYC.

And when I saw this, I nearly cried.

It’s just a silly little piece of embossed tin. But it says Karl. With a K. And when I saw it, I cried aloud, “Oh my GOD!” Britt and Becky came over to see what the big deal was. And it was/is a big deal, believe me. I explained to them that it was the first and only time I’ve seen my name spelled correctly on a silly little piece of tin (or anything else) and they smiled and said, “Cool” but I don’t think they got it.

I have never spent $5.99 more readily and happily than I did that night. I love my little license plate. And it wouldn’t surprise me, honestly, if I never again experience another personalized souvenir spelled correctly. And I’m perfectly OK with that. I’ll be 42 in a couple of months and I’ve now found something…one thing…spelled correctly.

So Alyson, my lovely daughter, don’t quit looking in stores. All things are possible. Yes, you can curse Dad because I’m the one who picked your first name. Your mom picked your middle name.

Ashley, you’re welcome. You got lucky with a name that’s fairly popular. You can thank your mother for that because I  picked your middle name and your mom picked your first name.

In other news, the NEW iPHONE comes out today! I’m like an excited little kid on Christmas Eve. I want to drive to Orlando’s Apple Store and get an iPhone RIGHT NOW! I’m currently negotiating with Britt and my mother like some foreign trade summit to make this happen. Yes, I’m going to be at Adam’s house on Monday, anyway, but like Veruca Salt I WANT IT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

And, in other other news, I recently received a huge box from a publishing company, full of lovely goodies. BOOKS!

I won these over at Whit’s place as a Father’s Day package. Thanks, Whit.

Very cool. Lots of books that I wouldn’t buy myself. Some of them sports-related. War books. Books that require me to have more testosterone than I own. But I look forward to reading them. I don’t think I really need the “Dude’s Guide to Pregnancy.” Pretty much have that one covered. Plus, I’ve been fixed and it’s gonna take a hell of a woman to make me go under the knife down THERE again.