Society hates Dave and Karen, but we don’t have to…
How to look past the name to see the person.
Ever have a name you just didn’t like? In mainstream society there is/was a thing going around about the name Dave. Don’t be like Dave comes from a help wanted ad on the radio and T.V. The commercial gives examples of bad employees or even bad bosses then ends with “don’t be like Dave”. There are even YouTube channels and shows about this and its become somewhat of a phenomenon. Then there’s the whole “Karen” meme. A “Karen” is a certain type of woman that most people don’t like. She’s rude, obnoxious and belligerent. She seems to always be the one whose quick to jump past an employee and straight to a manager. It’s funny because just about every Dave and Karen I’ve ever met seems like a hard working, salt of the earth, nice people. I’ve gotten to where I feel kinda bad for the guys out there named Dave and the women named Karen. But I’m not talking about the Daves and Karens. I’m talking about a name that every person you’ve met with that same name you just don’t like or just doesn’t like you and you end up butting heads. I’m talking about the names that you learn to avoid. For me… it’s Kyle. Now, I know this is a silly and somewhat limiting way of going through life. It’s not something I’ve chosen to pay attention to. It sort of just happens this way. I’m not saying I wouldn’t like to change my perception of people named Kyle. I’m just telling you how I came to not like Kyles.
When I was growing up I had a lot of friends. Lots of different names and a lot of different types of people to go with those names. A couple of Adams, a Billy here and there. Trevor seemed to always be around. A few Joes and even the infamous Dave. It was kind of funny though, I ended up almost always hanging out with a Josh or a Matt. Joshs and Matts have always been good guys in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Matt or a Josh I didn’t like. (I most certainly will now though huh?). Matts seem to always be your buddy. The guy that’s up for anything and ready for everything. The guy you can call at 3 in the morning to go pick you up. Josh seems to be the one with you trying to get Matt on the phone. Josh is the guy with you everywhere you go and probably the most likely to be sleeping on your couch right now. Between the Joshs and the Matts a guy can do alright. The one I always seem to have a problem with is Kyle.
The first Kyle I remember having a problem with was back when I was in 7th or 8th grade. He was a grade or two younger than me and out to prove something…always. He had a smug look on his face every time you laid eyes on him and he thought he was Gods gift to everything. Especially basketball. A bunch of us use to play at the elementary school gym on Friday nights and that’s where I think my problems with Kyles officially started. We were all playing a basic pick up game. 5 on 5 full court. The teams were pretty evenly matched and Kyle and I faced off against each other. If you’ve read my other article about Michael Jordan vs the Pistons you’ll know that I’ve faced bullies and idiots on the court before and this was one of those times. I was just a hair better than this younger Kyle and he hated it. He got a bit physical and started playing a bit rough and so did I. Soon the moderator of the open gym had to step in and tell us to cool it. But it didn’t stop there. Kyle decided to take it a bit farther. So he’s dribbling up the court and I’m guarding him. He suddenly stops moving forward and I stand up out of the defender position to get my hands up. That’s when he chunks the ball directly at my… yea… and at point blank range. No warning. He yells “N*T CHECK!!!!” and starts laughing. The game stops and I go sit down. Now what do I do? Do I run at him and start throwing punches (I’m sure most people would have). No. I calmly sit out the rest of the game. His teams wins and he comes over to me and fakes like he’s gonna do it again. I react to the fake-out and he laughs again. I get back up, get warmed back up and win the next game. And the next game. And the next game. I let my game do the talking that night. And it was loud and clear… the only way you beat me is by cheating. And even then its gonna take a shot to the groin to at least slow me down.
The last run-in with a Kyle I had cemented my distain for Kyles everywhere and with great reason. I was working at a restaurant as a cook/dishwasher and had a Kyle as a coworker. I must say this is the worst Kyle I have ever met. He was much younger than me, bigger than me and I’d have to say almost my opposite in every way. In this kitchen we had a radio and everyone got a turn at playing music. Kyle’s favorite choice of music was Satanic Death Metal. He claimed that he liked to find the nastiest thing he could find and listen to it till he found something even more Satanic, loud and obnoxious. He did every known drug he could find and would often come to work late, high as a kite or drunk even though he was under age at the time. He had a big dog who he named Lucifer that he kept out back while he worked. When he finally softened up to my personality a bit he eventually would try to get me to take the dog off his hands. I never did. I did feel kind of sorry for it though. This Kyle and I came to a turning point one night soon after his 21st birthday on a chilly evening in October. He had been drinking wine coolers, hard cider and smoking weed all day. I had just got off work and was drinking my daily allowance of free beer from the restaurant. That day I was feeling a bit down as I was having girlfriend troubles and so that night I decided to drink a bit more than usual. Soon I was very drunk and talking crap to another guy that used to work there. This guy was much bigger than me and he was kinda nice (in a weird way). We both got another beer and I started in on the momma jokes and he headed for the door to smoke a cigarette. I pursued him and kept right on talking crap. The bartender (my manager and the owner of the restaurant) said I was on a roll that night and I heard him laughing because of what I was saying as I went out the door. The other guy lit up a cigarette and sat down. Kyle happened to be outside smoking and was sitting with a friend drinking. I kept going with the jokes and Kyle chimed in for me to shut up. I didn’t think much of it until in one sudden and fluid movement Kyle jumped up and pushed me kinda like a football player would as he’s trying to get to the quarter back. I was so drunk all I did was fall straight backwards. As I fell I remember thinking… “this is probably not good”. I fell straight backwards and landed on a stone fence about 2 feet high. My ribs took the brunt of the impact and I bounced off and landed on the ground with a thud. The guy I was talking with immediately rushed to help me up but it was obvious that something was wrong. The guy helped me up slowly and by that time the manager/owner came out to see what was going on. The manger and the former coworker I had been hanging out with helped me to the back room and sat me down in a chair to let me gather my wits. The manager asked if I was ok and I asked him for a shot of liquor he kept on hand. He poured me a shot and himself a shot. I remember knocking back that shot and as soon as my head came back down my eyes welled up with tears. Anyone that knows me knows, I don’t cry. But that night I balled like a baby… for about 15 mins. Then I told the manager to invite Kyle in so we could all have a shot together. Kyle came in. I poured him a shot. He said he was sorry (the hollow, empty way a kid says hes sorry as he thinks the rest in his head… “that I got caught”) and we took a shot. The manger closed up that night soon after and I slept on the floor of the bar. It was actually better than what my usual sleeping arrangements were… my car in the parking lot. I had 2 or 3 broken ribs. I think the manger really wanted to check and make sure I wasn’t gonna die that night so he let me sleep inside, that night. I woke up the next day (a few hours later) and couldn’t move. I couldn’t move and I couldn’t breath. The manager is the one that woke me up… “time to go to work” he said. I tried to get up but I couldn’t. After some “tough love” from the manager I managed to sit up and told him he’d have to help me up. I finally made it to my feet and staggered to the bathroom. I didn’t have a choice. I had no money. I had no replacement for my shift. I had no place to stay. So with 2–3 broken ribs I went to work. That day and every day for the next 6 weeks. Sleeping in my car as best I could. Trying to find a position that was comfortable, trying to stay warm and trying to earn enough money to get out of my situation. It was one of the hardest times of my life, but I got through it. No thanks to Kyle.
Other than Kyle there is one other name that stands out in my life… Ben. I’ve gone from hating Bens to loving Bens and it all turned around with a mixed kid named Ben on a basketball court in the deep south. I had recently moved from the Northern United States to the Southern United states to live with my Dad. I was 17 and like all teenagers I thought I knew it all and I was going places. I love basketball and everywhere I go I seem to find myself on or near a basketball court. Having just arrived in town I went exploring for my new home court and found it in a park a few miles from my house. After I saw the court I hurried home to grab my gear and got back that afternoon. Playing around on the court I had no idea what I was in for. Soon day turned to night, the lights came on and the people started to show up. I try not to be racist but I must say… I was the only white guy there. I was surrounded by big, bulky, athletic black guys and quickly realized that I was in the ‘hood. Growing up in the country up north I had never really experienced being in this position and while I was aware of it I didn’t think much of it. I played a little bit and, if I’m being honest, not very well. Soon I was just on the sidelines waiting to play. As I waited… I met Ben. He was light skinned with a huge afro, a mouth that just didn’t stop and a jump shot that needed some work but usually had a good chance of going in. He was younger than me but much more street wise and asked me to play on his team. We played a couple more games and I asked him if he knew where to get some grass. He said he did and he would hook me up if I took him around the corner. It was the beginning of a great friendship. Up until then the Ben I knew was another one that was younger than me from back in my hometown up North. We didn’t get along. He didn’t like me much and soon the feeling became mutual. We ended up being on the same basketball team, if I recall correctly, and that’s where we kinda-sorta got into a fight. It wasn’t so much a fight as it was a shoving match that I lost because of the snow and ice. I slipped and he declared victory. Seriously. No punches were thrown. Just a couple of shoves, he started moving away from me, I followed, slipped and that was it. We both continued to talk junk but that was about it. I never really held a grudge or thought much of it. There is one other Ben from my childhood that I should mention because he deserves to be mentioned and I didn’t deserve to be his friend. I treated him very badly. The stories about this Ben haunt me even till this day. Perhaps I’ll tell them someday but now is not the time. Suffice it to say that I had a bad relationship with Bens till I moved down south. After I met the Ben from the basketball court things changed for me a bit. I had a buddy. I had someone to go play basketball with and man did we play some basketball. I think everyone in life deserves to have the kind of friendship me and Ben had at least at some point in their life.
We would wake up, get something to eat, go find one of the local hoops (Ben knew them all) and play ALL day. When we first started playing like that, everyday-all-day, it was obvious I was better than him. But the more we played the better he got and soon it turned into battles. Games to 15 (by 1’s and 2’s) that use to take 15 mins now would take an hour or more. We battled every day, all day and it was great. Soon Ben was sleeping over at my house so much he became like a brother to me and Dad got used to him always being around. But then the summer ended and he had to be at his house more and more. Ben didn’t like it at his house. His Dad was a huge bulky man, stern and no-nonsense. His mother was a “serious christian” woman who had a flowery turn-to-Jesus message on her answering machine. It kind of made me laugh (back before I really knew Jesus Christ) every time I called and left a message. As Ben and his dads relationship started to sour Ben began spending more time at my house when he wasn’t suppose to. It even got so bad that my dad found him sleeping in the coat closet one morning as he was getting ready to leave for work. Things got crazier and crazier in that little town for him and for me. I got wrapped around some girl and Ben kept trying to find a way out. He turned to drug dealing about the same time I decided to wrap my whole life around the girl I met and we slowly drifted away from each other. There was one slip up between me and Ben. About the same time that he was looking for places to sleep other than his house he ended up sleeping at my girlfriends (at the time) house on a trampoline in the backyard. I never did feel too good about it but I let things go in that situation. It took awhile but I had to. I didn’t have any evidence that anything had happened between them and really didn’t have a reason to. Looking back I’m not sure what did or did not happen. Honestly, I try not to think about it when I remember Ben. Things got bad for me and my Dad there. Dad lost his high paying job and we eventually skipped town and left it all behind. It was the best thing that could have happen to us. After we left I moved on and never really revisited those times in my mind until good old social media came around. I got on the ole FaceSpace and someone from my past contacted me. No, it wasn’t Ben. It was a great friend we both had in common. He informed me that Ben had died a year earlier in an argument at a club. Some words were said and he was just shot down right there on the dance floor. I was sad to hear of such news and told him so and thanked him for telling me. I still miss that goofy-smiling-huge-afro-wearing-up-for-anything kid I use to play basketball with everyday. May you rest in Peace Ben.
By now maybe your getting to the point that, like me, it might seem logical maybe even smart to pick up on using someones name as a sort of filter to quickly tell if you should hang out with someone or not. You know, the truth is…it really is silly to judge people by their name before you really get to know them. It creates limits in life that are arbitrary and unnecessary. Those Kyles aren’t every Kyle. Those Bens aren’t every Ben. And I’m willing to bet there are some Matts and Joshs out there that actually aren’t cool at all. They’re more like the Kyles I’ve talked about here. While I still feel sorry for guys named Dave or if you’ve seen the whole “Karen”, thing i feel sorry for women named karen too… I’ve found that most of the time… a name is just a name. People are just people and not all people are alike. Just because they have the same name doesn’t mean they will have the same character traits as every other person you’ve met with the same name. One other thing I’ve learned (although from reading this you might not know it) is a name that will always help you out even when the Matts don’t show up and the Kyles are closing in… that name is the name above all names… Jesus Christ. If you have never heard his name or don’t know who that is… call out his name and tell him all your troubles and all the bad things you’ve done. He can help. Jesus Christ will never let you down. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this. Till next time. Thanks for reading. And May God Bless You
