...at the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities is James R. Horney, which is another unfortunate name. Imagine the giggles on the first day of class in high school: "...Hartnett?" "Here." "Hayes?" "Here." "Horney?" (cringe) "Here." And that happened for eight or nine periods--every term!
And then when he got older he tried meeting girls at frat parties. "What's your name?" "Peggy." "What's yours?" "Jim." "Jim what?" "Jim Horney." "What?" (The music is loud.) "Horney." "I still can't hear you!" And of course it was just at about this time that some John Belushi-type would bump into the stereo and cause the music to stop abruptly. "HORNEY!" Everyone in the room would then turn toward the blushing couple. Not a good start.
When he got into his twenties and found himself on Rush Street, things were scarcely better. "What did you say your last name was?" "Horney." "Oh, I think I see my friend on the other side of the bar. Nice talking to you." (Creep!)
It's probably too late to help this guy; his life has already been ruined. But Jim, if you're out there reading this, please, do your kids and grandchildren a favor. Drop the "ey" and just call yourself Jim Horn, or Horner, or Horton. Your parents and ancestors would forgive you.
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