The Meaning of a Name

When I was younger D' had told me that she knew what she was going to call me because of a dream. I do not know how she came up with my middle name, maybe she dreamed that as well. But my last name has always been different from both D' and my sisters. I had chosen to keep the last name of the man that I thought was my real dad, (I had found my birth certificate.) instead of taking the name of my step. Some of the black kids in my old neighborhood referred to me as a Cracker but I had no idea what a Cracker was.

One night when I was laying in a hospital bed after the surgery, I became the CrippledCracker

When I turned 18 and had graduated from high school and fell out with D', I never went by my birth name. Everyone refer ed to me as CCracker because that is the name that I would introduce myself as. When I had came to Florida and met with my dad and his family, I told them all to call me CCracker. I did

not want to be called by my first name because

D' had given it to me. (Plus, I felt and feel like the person that went by my first name had died in the hospital when the CCracker was born.)

People I worked with referred to me by name but they were the only people that were tolerated to do so.

When I had moved to Florida in late 04 I was staying with my dad and his family until, his wife gave me an impossible deadline to move out. She then hit me with a guilt trip that I could not believe and then I gathered my clothes in disgust. The whole time that I lived in my car I did not hear from anyone. One night after work when I had pulled into the parking lot of my gym and was about to go to sleep, I had looked through the t-tops at the sky. It was at this point that I had decided to change my name. D' had given me my first and middle and I had Bob's last name. I decided that changing my name would help me to eliminate linkage to them and deny them any chance to share in my achievements. (D' knew that I was living in my car because she had gotten my number and was calling me often. It was not hard to see where I stood in Bob's eyes.)

I had always told myself that if I ever had a daughter I would name her Montana Marie. If I had a son, his name would be Dillon Lee. So I decided that I would be known as Dillon Lee Lashton (I just came up with the last name out of the blue.)

My fiance refuses to call me Dillon and told me that she really wants our marriage license to display Brandon (my orig. first name) Because of my love and devotion to her, I am going to keep the first but the middle and last become Lee Lashton.

My name is Brandon Lee Lashton and I am about to start my new life.

Not of the image that the MDA was trying to promote

I began to appear on the JERRY LEWIS LABOR DAY TELETHON every year since the seventh grade when they had sent me to their camp for the first time. I remember how nervous I was at knowing that I would be on television and that I would be seen by many people.

I guess my mom had found out about it on short notice because we did not have time to get something dressy to wear. (I wore my jeans, a long sleeved shirt and my Chicago Bulls hat b I also wore 1 of my CHICAGO, BULLS hats.) But I continued to be on the telethons year after year and began to wear nicer suits each telethon.

My last appearance in 2002 was a lot like my first in many ways. I still got that nervous high in the pit of my stomach when I rolled to the 'red x', which was taped on the floor and was the spot to be before you were to roll in front of the light rigging and the cameras. Those lights, so bright that you almost had to squint when you were looking into the camera and the heat coming off them always had my balls sweating in my dress pants. The main camera would be aimed at you from its poise on the tripod. 'Cue' words would be held up by someone standing behind the camera man so that the man doing the interviews could make sure that every note was addressed.

Every year it would take me a few minutes to warm up to the camera before I would

under-go that weird transformation of being totally comfortable and secure with those in the audience and those watching at home.

D' had lost her faith in the assistance that the Muscular Dystrophy Association was able to offer, so there were a few years that went by in which we did not participate in the telethon. By this point I had already met the age restrictions of the camp so I, personally had no contact with the MDA at this point either. One day I was going through and old journal and had found some numbers and when I had called them, I was invited to appear on the telethon that year.

It was in 2003 and at that time I had many facial piercings. I kept the piercings in and

wore my best suit after it w as ironed. It was

a long show that started late at night and we

arrived there early in the morning.

As with this and many other taped events, there

was a 'green-room' that contained tables of

free food and drinks for those working on the

show.

A few of my friends had gone with me and

we were sitting in the green room when I was

approached by Don Brown.

He had been the main, host of the Dayton section of the Jerry Lewis Telethon (Don Brown had been doing it for years.)

Jerry Lewis would broadcast to every one from a live feed coming from where they were in Las Vegas and when they went on break, individual areas would transmit locally. (Don Brown covered Dayton and surrounding areas.)

Anyway.......

Don Brown approaches the table that my friends and I were sitting and said his hello's being real polite. He had asked me to join him in the hallway for a minute so that he could talk to me.

I could tell from his body language that something was on his mind.

It was so long ago so I cannot remember his exact words but the bases of what he said to me was, that I did not represent the image that the MDA was trying to promote. Being more mature now I am able to see his point on one level. But even though I had piercings in my face did not mean that I was not dressed appropriately enough for the show. I was in a 300.00 dollar suit and I did not have a rude or even aggressive demeanour. "Not the image", Don you smack-head, I have a form of Ataxia which qualifies under Muscular Dystrophy. And........... it was a telethon to help those like me who have many forms of MD. I am sorry that I am not the cute baby faced victim, that did all those promos for you years back. I grew up and piercings were my style and did not have a bearing on my attitude.

After you had "bashed" my image, you just walked away and ignored me until and after our on-camera interview. (which was short and you cut me off) You lost my respect that day and allowed me to see what our 7 year friendship was based around, PITY. But Don as I age I can not help but wonder if you were here in front of me now, who would PITY who.

I wish nothing but the best for your family.