A thousand years ago, one of the ways people came by a family name was through whatever trade they were occupied at. Therefore, John the baker soon became John Baker. Joe the blacksmith was eventually known as Joe Smith. And it wasn’t long before Charles the tailor had – guess what name – listed in his medieval phone book.
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That method of choosing surnames worked fairly well back then but isn’t much needed today since everyone has pretty well been named by now. What’s interesting these days, however, is the fact that a lot of people still have names that match their occupations. The difference is, of course, that the names came first and the occupations second. Could it be that some of us are subconsciously led to our professions by the names we grow up with?
Why else, I ask you, would John Field decide to become a farm specialist with the Ontario Ministry of Agriculture and Food?
And what else would cause Bill Diver, Paul Fish and Gregory Storms to take jobs with the Upper Thames River Conservation Authority?
If this theory is not correct, then why did Dr. John Fardy decide to become an expert on human flatulence? What else then, led Lorna Kozmik to join the Toronto police drug squad? Or Daniel Green to become head of Quebec’s Society to Overcome Pollution?
Of all the jobs he could have had, why did Michael Advocate decide to become a lawyer in New York? Was he possibly influenced by the same strange forces that led Nicolae Militaru to become defence minister in Romania?
After considering his career options, did Michael C. Hammer realize he didn’t have any choice other than to become the home renovation specialist he now is?
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Did the same kind of thinking lead Pud Hunter to sign up as a district biologist with the Ministry of Natural Resources? Or Kathleen Hunter to apply for the job as executive director of the Toronto Humane Society?
When Tim and Elke Inkster, of Erin, Ont., decided to open up a business, why did they choose to start the Porcupine Quill Press instead of a restaurant?
And did Jack Hollerhead’s high school guidance counsellor take him aside one day and say, “Jack, you can’t fight it. You’ll have to become a football coach.”? Which he became. In Windsor.
When Eric Oakleaf, co-ordinator of conservation services for Toronto, speaks at seminars on trees, is he anywhere but exactly where he should be? Does the same go for Kitchener bank manager John Banks when he’s at work behind his desk? Would that also be the case with renowned flautist Paul Horn?
Haven’t I made my case yet? If not, maybe we should go ask Bud Oke, the wood carver. Or Joan Armour, the strategic defence expert.
If I’m wrong, then why is Cecilia Flower an Ottawa flower vendor and not a strategic defence expert like Joan Armour?
I think I’ll go ask Jack Hammer, the power tool salesman, about this. Maybe he knows what kind of work Claude Hopper and Adam Bomb ought to get into.
©1991 Jim Hagarty
