DAVID

What’s with my name, David?

I realize, of course, that saying anything about a name means that one’s mind immediately tacks to The Bard. Is it possible that a rose might not smell as sweet if it were called a glup? Sometimes our minds play dirty tricks on us.

My purpose, though, is not to challenge the unchallengeable. Rather it’s to ask why so many who have been introduced to me, or even people who have known me over the years, change David to Dave. Some name-shortening is, sort of, natural: Thomas is changed to Tom, but the first syllable of the full name is pronounced the same as the shortened name. Many examples exist: Rob for Robert; Joe for Joseph; Lee for Leatrice (to change genders); Pat for Patrick or Patricia (to use both genders); and so on.

Historical aside: David, of course, was originally King David, of Israel, the one who slew Goliath. He was the only David in the Bible. He was a shepherd, musician, poet, soldier, prophet and king, everything which I am not.

Back to the topic: The interesting part of the David to Dave change is that almost always the change is made by men, but rarely by women. Women almost always call me David. But many men do the Dave. So the question is why.

One reason might be that men are trying to show their friendliness. Women might not do this because, deep down, the “friendliness” might be misinterpreted. But I think there is another reason, possibly more important. David (which of course in Hebrew means “beloved”) may have, for women, a euphoniousness that men, clueless as they are, don’t hear.

How do I feel? I grudgingly accept it when men shorten the two-syllabled David to Dave, say nothing, but don’t like it. Dave doesn’t sound as sweet, although maybe both David and Dave don’t smell as sweet because they don’t shower as frequently as they should.