Where I grew up, people had nicknames. I had an uncle named Jesse, but everyone called him Popeye. I never saw him eat spinach.
There were people named Pepsi (a diabetic, no doubt), Bear, Goat and Goofy. Goofy was a mechanic who became a mortician. You can't make this stuff up.
Oddly, you didn't even have to resemble your namesake. Preach was not a preacher, nor was PeeWee particularly small. Bug was not afraid of pesticide, and Catfish didn't live in the river.
The best nicknames didn't even have meanings. I remember a guy named Drutch, and man was he cool. He looked like he was in Lynyrd Skynyrd. If you're out there, Drutch, look me up. FREEBIRD!!!
What happened to nicknames? Did the death of Citizens Band radios destroy our nicknamed culture? Is there nobody out there who still answers to Wormy?
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