A couple years ago, I visited my friend JC in Vegas.  He was doing a show there and as I was walking down the Strip, there was a picture of him (and his group) on a billboard ten stories high.  I was shocked, proud, jealous and awe-inspired within fourteen seconds.

And it was at that exact moment that I realized that I really enjoy seeing my name in print.  Or in lights.  Or attached to the back of a restraining order.  Heck, I would be thrilled with the prospect of seeing my name scrawled on a bathroom wall somewhere provided it’s in a legible, tasteful font.

My name has a certain ring to it.  It flows.  And the alliteration helps.  I’ve often thought of becoming a weatherman just so I could hear the announcer say “Meteorologist Michael Mackie”.

If that just doesn’t kick ass … I don’t know WHAT does.

Lately, I’ve been using my moniker “M2, Esq.” in my e-mail signatures and for a majority of my correspondence.  I worked with a guy who arbitrarily added “Esquire” after his name.  People would always ask if he was a lawyer and he would respond, “Hell, no!”  But it made for a good conversation starter.  (And then later I found out it was technically illegal to portray yourself as a lawyer, but whatever, I’m undaunted.)  Half the world knows me as MBob (circa 1991-2001).  The other half knows me as M2, Esq.  Everyone knows (or should know) not to call me Mike.  Call me Mike — and it will only happen once.

At the Iowa State Fair, I found an artist who custom-crafts your name by bending a long strand of wire.  When I wrote down my name as “M2, Esq.”, she didn’t miss a beat.  Six minutes later, I had a work of art with my nickname in all of its glory and splendor.  I hung it with much fanfare next to the bumper sticker and handmade wooden carving featuring my personal handle.

You know what else makes me happy?  Seeing my name on this website.  Vanity kills … it don’t pay the bills.  Except when it does.