With the passing of Leslie Nielsen (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/05/movies/05scott.html) I am now alone. That’s an exaggeration of course. But how many guys do you know named Leslie? I’m probably it. Of course, if you’re reading this from England you’ll say that you know plenty of us. But I live here in the US where men are men and women are Leslies. Or they’re Lesleys. (And no, I have no idea how to pluralize Leslie or Lesley correctly so I’m just tossing on an S and hoping I’m right. Feel free to correct me.) And if you're a Brit you also make all the Leslies into Lezlies. Actually, you say that z so long it deserves an extra z (or zed): Lezzlie. I've always preferred hearing Leslie like Wesley (a name some people choose to hear when I give them my full first name--I rarely correct them). Anyway...
I liked Nielsen not only because he made me, (somehow literally forced me), to laugh in spite of myself at some very silly movies like Airplane, but also because he was the one male Leslie that most people had heard about. I liked that he existed. He no longer does so I’m just left to be the un-famous oddity I already was but now without a helpful referent.
Now, most people call me Les. It’s much easier. I know of no female Leslies or Lesleys calling themselves Les. Guys are Leses. (No, I don’t know how to pluralize the shortened version of myself either.) But, of course, when I meet someone and tell them that my name is Les they look at me for a second. I watch them calculate. They wonder if I’ve said the word yes. And that momentarily confuses them. And then I watch the light click on in their face, oh, yes, Les, of course, that old name from the 1950’s or some era like that. How odd that you have this name. (Yes, I see all that in their face. I do a bit of waiting when I meet people.) And this is ok. It really is fine with me. What it not so great is when young people (now officially anyone under 30) write my name. They ALL add an S. Every one of them want to make me Less than I currently am. I’m already 5’7” with skinny wrists and freakishly small feet (but, thankfully, with normal-sized hands) and ever Lessening hair. Please don’t make me an adjective—especially that one, thanks.
I used to have Les Paul to help me out but he died on me too, just last year (http://www.lespaulonline.com/). He was great. He used to play every week at the Iridium in New York, right up until his death. Now that was a major Les. Oh to be as great as that Les. Oh well…
I recently learned from my mother that if she had it to do over she’d have made my middle name Preston which was my grandfather’s middle name. She gave me my father’s name, Leslie William Gilbert. Growing up, I sometimes thought about going by William. But this is America where everything gets cut so I’d either be a Bill Gilbert or a Billy Gilbert. And these would be destined to become BilGil or Billy Gilly. I wanted to avoid those. And I didn’t know about the Liam option. But I grew up in the Midwest where I’d have probably been beaten daily for being a Liam. Being a Leslie was already tough enough thank you. But Preston would have been pretty good I must admit. Though that too would have been shortened to Press. So I’d still have that pause from people, especially at parties: Hi I’m Press. They’d calculate—did he just say Yes? Oh, now I got it “Hello Les, nice to meet you”.
So what do I do, you might ask, with my name on a regular basis? What do I do when I order a cafĂ© au lait and I have to wait? (Isn’t it cool how lait and wait nearly rhyme? Are you with me?) Well, I admit—this name has made me creative. There is no rule that one must use their legal name when waiting for fancy drinks or food to go. I often make up names that have lots of syllables—names that are much more fun than my given one. My favorite is Fernando. If you say it with gusto, everyone smiles. And the prettier the girl behind the counter the more gusto I give it (I roll the r a little for the really beautiful ones and try not to laugh as I do so). If they smile knowingly, I tip them well. If they write it down with no expression, well, they get a quarter or two.