Call me Double-J. Stands for John Johnston, a name so bland that it demands a spicy nickname. Problem was, I never liked the sound of JJ since the first time I remember hearing it, and by the time I was eight I realized that despite my objections that nickname was going to stick like a facial birthmark. One day that summer my uncle called me JJ, and when I reflexively asked him to not call me that, fully expecting to be brushed off with a patronizing laugh, he shrugged and said, “well, we’ve got to do something about that double J in your name.” And it sounded so much more original, creative than any other nickname I had ever heard, for myself or anyone else, that I decided that being Double-J was what I wanted.

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