The Doctor’s Disorders
About ten years ago I was asked to be godfather to the new son of some in-laws I didn’t know very well. These jobs went in a strict rotation in my then-wife’s family, and it was our turn at the font. I agreed to serve but worried about one problem: I was having the worst trouble remembering the little tyke’s intended name.
(I still have that trouble. Either he was meant to be Jason and I kept calling him Nathan, or the other way around.)
Anyway, I had about two months in which to train myself. I studied hard, practiced often and corrected myself whenever I caught myself starting to give the wrong monicker.
You guessed it. Two months later of rehearsals later, and with basically two jobs during the baptism—give the child’s name correctly and keep his fruity white dress out of the water—I stepped out and in a loud, firm tone, said the wrong name.
So I can empathize with the plight of Dr Pepper, which blew Sunday’s Guns N’ Roses soda giveaway despite more than half a year to prepare. more
