Liking my name, this morning, in a peculiar way. Names, rather. Funny thing about “Eric” – I’ve never disliked the name, nor given it much thought, it’s my given name and I kept it. Had this odd moment this morning of actively liking the name. I like the sound of it, the two-syllabled simplicity. So, right, finishing my sixth decade of life and suddenly realize I like my name. Thanks, mom and dad, for the cool names! Names? Well yes, Roy being my middle name. Named after a buddy of my dad’s. Very rock n’ roll, that name, innit? Not only because Roy Orbison but also the sound of it. You can sort of rock the “Roy,” with a certain twang, or drawl. Dinwiddie, now we’re in the deep water. I love this name, now, but had to retire it for a time in my youth for a few distinct reasons. 1. Misspellings! Of every imaginable sort, routinely, comically. 2. Spelling it out loud for people over the phone, spending precious minutes of my life ‘splaining “No, there’s no L, that’s an I at the end, I am not Din Widdle! I mean I could be, but I am not. 3. I had this nickname, Din, which really started as my initials on guitar repair tickets when I worked at Subway Guitars in the late ’80s. There was another guy there with the initials E.D., so I just wrote Din to disambiguate myself. This took with my workmates and friends, and so Din and Eric Din I became. Only many years later, after my father passed, did I start to regret that a little bit. I don’t know if it bothered him or not, probably not, but losing him was quite a thing, and the surname, as something we share, gained some unexpected meaning for me. Surnames, surnames, I think if I were to do it again I’d be Kretzschmar-Dinwiddie, do the hyphen thing including my mom’s family name. Eric Roy Kretzschmar-Dinwiddie, now that would be fun to spell for people over the phone, wouldn’t it?
Amusements continue. I can’t get back into my FB account because the good gatekeepers of same say they can’t confirm my identity. Isn’t that so 2025? I’ve been on that platform since 2007 you see, as Eric Din, and when I sent my ID to confirm my me, they correctly observed that the name on my ID does not match. I don’t know how much time I care to spend trying to fix that, we’ll see, but I haven’t felt greatly motivated yet. Perhaps in part due to the many horrible aspects of FB and corporate electronic social networks generally, and what they have done to society. I left Twitter the day whatshisname took over, and I wished everyone else would. Now being in FB exile, I guess, my feelings about it are a little complex. I miss some folks there and indeed, some I will likely never again interact with in this life, absent that venue, just because it’s the only place where we were connected. So that’s real, and I don’t love that part. But at the same time, I’m sort of savoring this abscence. Odd as it sounds, FB had become something of a chore. I mean, as a recording artist and for my record label I want to have reach there, right? Well that’s harder than it used to be. Many of my music posts in recent years would fall flat, no response or very little, leaving me to wonder, is this just that people aren’t into my work, OR does it mean FB is not showing my music posts to my friends in their FB feeds? And being an emotional person, I have emotions around all that, and they are not entirely pleasant emotions, and I think, am I getting paid for this unpleasantness? No, they are. The UpTones’ page on FB still had some reach, but in the last few years we played live, we had to buy a “boost” for our gig announcements, whereas earlier everyone who had followed us there would see our posts organically. Waaaay into the weeds on this I am, so I’ll step out. It’s a weedy thing, this dystopian hot mess. And somewhat shocking to me is how much the social networking fracas has influenced my songwriting. Quite a many of my songs over the last ten years or so are directly informed by these conflicts and contradictions.
Michael Valladares really nailed it some years ago, when he said regarding an early social network (Friendster, was it?), “Let me tell you about my me.” As sort of a catch-all for what a social profile is, for a person. My Me. I found this delightfully funny, and it stayed with me even though I don’t remember the exact context of our conversation. Let me tell you about my me. Well social networks go kablooey eventually it seems, and here I am, back in my faithful WordPress site, saying let me tell you about my me.
Here’s some photos, of me, at Gilman this last Saturday, caterwauling at Peter Montgomery’s b-day bash. It was rad, the whole event.
As for my names, I’m keeping all of them.
Photo creds: Larry Lynch
