Frazz by Jef Mallett for February 24, 2023

I’m the pull-my-finger one these days (I’ve been really gassy lately). I’m a Jr., named for my father, but my first and middle names are those of my maternal grandparents! My middle name is the masculine version of my grandmother’s name. I am also named for both of my mom’s grandfathers as well as a great-uncle.

My cousin hated her name so much, she changed it!

The “Pull my finger” one is usually the fun one.

My name was chosen after careful consideration of blended family traditions and acknowledgment to the heritage of several countries. FINALLY to carry a name that wouldn’t cause me to be too far back in line in the army. No middle name, no middle initial.

There is a Yiddish phase that translates to “May a child be named after you soon”. It sounds like a great honor, except for the fact that in household that speak Yiddish it tradition to not name a child after someone living

I got curious, so I looked it up: the grapefruit actually does resemble grapes in one specific way. The fruit grows in clusters, so prior to harvest there is a passing resemblance to very large grapes.

They are called grapefruit, by the way, because they bunch on the trees and look like grapes. Seriously.

If you think about it, strawberries have the same problem, neither the color nor the taste of straw. And what the bleep is a boysen of boysenberry fame?

Whether you think grapefruit tastes good or bad is at least partly due to genetics. For some who can taste a certain chemical (or chemicals) in the grapefruit, it generally makes them taste bad (kind of bitter).

My favorite fruit is the Hershey bar.

And you have what? Seven names? More?

But I can’t remember this kid’s name! So how am I going to get the joke?

Grapefruit’s actually a hybrid created in Barbados @ 400 years ago.

When I was born, my dad wanted to name me Billy. His mom convinced him to name me William and I was always called Bill. In 4th grade we had 4 Bill’s. Since I had seen my birth certificate, I told my dad I wanted to be called William. His reply? “Okay, Bill.”

I used to work with someone whose birth certificate gave his name as Bobby. He got upset if you tried to call him Robert.