USA/ Conservative Monitor -- "A rose by any other name" might smell just as sweet, but I think it also tells us something about the person who bears it.

Take my name for example, "William". Like our erstwhile past president I generally go by the name, "Bill". This makes me seem familiar, friendly and unpretentious. Most Williams who choose to go by Bill are regular guys trying to get along in life or are someone trying to look like a regular guy. A Bill has some character, a modicum of common sense and just a touch of self-deprecating humor in his makeup. I like being "Bill", but the truth is, it is not always who I want to be.

There are days I decide that I want to be formal. This is usually when I am angry, official, or I feel that the polite thing to do is to keep my distance. It is then that I use the name, William. I generally assume this in my initial correspondence, in phone conversations with salesmen, on checks and on official documents.

I will also use the short form in correspondence, "Wm." This is my way of connecting myself to history. You find a lot of great Williams signed their names this way. It makes me feel connected somehow and distinctive because it is not many people who have a two-letter initial that is readily recognized. You seldom see Johns or Josephs or Jehosephats signing their names with two letters.

Sometimes I just go with my initials, "WJR". This is my businesslike, cursory, "I haven't even got enough spare time from all my work to sign my full name" mode. It also has a certain familiarity about it, as though the person receiving the correspondence will surely know who is writing and won't take offense that I did not bother with my full name.

There are other modes that I seldom even consider using. "Will" has a certain pompous air about it, an affectation that says "I am holier than thou." In my younger, cockier days, I actually thought of asking everyone to call me "Will". It sounds strong, yet there is a certain weakness behind it, as if I wished to put on the facade of a strong willed person without earning the right through upright action.

Speaking of pompous and adding arrogant, you may look to the French word for William, Guillaume (pronounced Gueeeyome). The French version does not so much reflect upon the individual as it does on the national character of the French, snooty, uptight and intolerant. Although I have more French blood coursing in my veins than any other, I have little respect for a European nation that looks down its collective long nose at the rest of the world. Even so, I respect the French for not really giving a damn about what anyone thinks of them. You see, the French for Bill is "Guy", which isn't quite so snooty and even has a regular fellow ring to it.

The Spanish, though they have their own aloofness, are more friendly and show it in their version of William, Guillermo. It seems to me hard to pronounce, but fun at the same time.

Then the are the Germans. "Wilhelm" (pronounced, Veeelhelllmm) shows a decided tendency to think in terms of the blitzkrieg. Wilhelm means "strong helmet". When I think of "Wilhelm", I think of those spikey helmets the German's wore during World War One, as if a rifle and a bayonet were not enough. I assume the German's were such gallant warriors that when they ran out of ammo, they went charging into the thick of the enemy head first in hopes of impaling one or two hapless, helpless or snooty Guillaumes.

What's in a name? Plenty. So when you meet up with a William ask him what he wishes to be called. If he says, "Bill" he is usually just a regular guy (or a cigar smoking, intern loving ex-prez). If he says, "Call me Veeelhelm", then it is time to cover your hindquarters as best you can and head for the hills.

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