While my absence in the blogosphere has become a less than startling event, my most recent disappearance has to do with a trip I took for the past three weeks through the Northwest/west. Perhaps some details will follow, perhaps not. Still, I would like to share the last conversation I had out west.
I ended up in a security line at the airport manned by an underemployed TSA agent with a mission to amuse himself. As every person in the line went up to him, he examined their name, and wondered out loud which of their names they went by. Some were fairly straightforwards, but I could see he was confused when he looked at the boarding pass of a man with three first names, and disappointed when one of the girls on line lacked a middle name (where's the mystery in that?)This whole time, I expected I would breeze through without question or conversation, but that was not the case.
He looked at my pass, and without skipping a beat, said, "Oh man, if I had your name, I would change that H to a C."
"Huh?" I asked, surprised that he had something to discuss about my name.
"Yeah, you could be Brendan Cannon."
Tempting. I thanked him for his input then walked on. I don't think I will change my own name, but upon further reflection, I realized that should I, by some slip up in the galactic paperwork, become a parent, I would like to name my child (regardless of gender) Cannon, so he or she could be "Cannon Hannon." Should I also have a spouse through a similar clerical error, I hope she approves.
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