David

This is my name, the Christian name my parents gave to me. I don’t know when but it was probably soon after I was born so I have carried it almost all of my life. I like it. Somewhere I once read that it was Hebrew and meant ‘lullaby’ or ‘darling.’ I don’t think either description fits with me but I am OK with it.

Somewhere in the marketing text books, it was said that your Christian name was the sweetest sound you could ever hear. I’ll buy that. Likewise, I did read once that your name to a degree conditioned your personality. There seems no logic in that but I do agree to a certain extent. I won’t be nasty here but I do recognise traits in personalities and names. Xxxxxn’s are generally boring while Xxxxx’s are usually robust characters. I could go on and on.

Then you get to the diminutive – Dave. Hate it. One of my own brothers uses it. Dave’s are not David’s. Dave’s are altogether shallower people. David’s are strong. Dave did not kill Goliath: David did. The interesting thing here is that some people seem instinctively to call me ‘David’ whilst others do the same with ‘Dave.’ That in itself tells me something, ‘They don’t all bloody watch me.’

I am a David; I always have been and I always will be.