Despite the fame of Sean Connery in a slew of James Bond movies, as a kid named Sean I constantly had my named mispronounced. Most commonly I’d be called “Seen.” Other times, “See-ann.” Occasionally, it was “Shane,” which was either a mispronunciation or confusing me with my second cousin.
Once during seventh grade, a substitute teacher who was the wife of a local Baptist preacher had a premonition during roll call and asked if “Sin” was present. I dutifully raised my hand while everyone giggled.
All that didn’t bother me too much. I went through elementary school with the last name “Bugg,” of course I’d heard much worse. That teasing — “Stomp the Bugg! Get the Raid!” —caused me to hate my surname for a while when I was very young. With age and an urge for self promotion, I learned to love it. Most American names are a dime a dozen, “Sean Bugg” is unique enough that I rule my Google search page with ease.
So feel free to call me Love Bugg, I’m cool with it.
Still, there’s one thing I’m no…
