His real name is Derek.
He was 8 when he became Dirty. I wish there was a cool origin story to his name. There’s not. Dirty has always had trouble understanding this whole “I’m the little brother” thing. There’s a picture on the wall at my mom’s. It’s Brian, Daniel and me. When Dirty was 4ish, he looked at that picture and asked why he wasn’t in it. I told him it was because he hadn’t been born yet. He was way more than confused. He was also a little pissed, like, “how dare there be existence before me?!” I had to explain it several times to him. I eventually got out of the conversation. I think my escape was less about him finally understanding, and more about him coming to a conclusion that I had no idea what I was talking about. “Life. Before me? No way. She crazy.”
It’s been with that mindset that young Derek proceeds through life.
He claimed most of his brother’s friends for himself. He was omnipresent at all things Daniel. By God’s grace, Daniel has always been the most easy going person I know. Sure, when Derek did find Daniel’s line there was worry for Derek’s personal safety; but thank fully Daniel’s tolerance is very high.
And so, Daniel’s every resource was shared by Derek. There was a time when Daniel was called “Dandy.” Derek got the hand-me-down nickname of “Der-D.” Lame nickname, to be sure. However, this was in the days when Derek was at many baseball practices and events with his brother’s tribe. He was the little brother who made bucket hats out of duct tape. The one who would cheer for the team from the stands by yelling things like “house of representatives!” (100% true, and I have ZERO idea why he yelled that. Zero.) In that magical climate, Der D became Dirty. It was perfect, and it stuck hard.
He embraced it early on. When you’re that age, starting to set your path, “Dirty” was a persona to accept. I loved when he moved schools and I had to pick him up for an appointment. Office lady told child runner “Will you please go get Derek Adams?” The confusion was evident on the young girl’s face. I called out over the counter to her, “Dirty.” Understanding appeared. She had no idea who Derek was; but, Dirty…that’s another story.
As he’s matured, he’s a little less of a fan. He would get pissed when I would tell Starbucks the order was for Dirty. He would flex his jaw with embarrassment. Alos, he realized that when he started to date a person who’s very important to him that the fact that her father only knows him as Dirty could be a problem. But he absolutely still answers to his magical moniker.
At college, he’s Derek. Can’t really meet a new bunch of people and tell them they need to call you by your childhood nickname. I’m making some efforts to try to make it stick. Every amazon prime order of essentials goes to the dorm with the label “Derek Dirty Adams.”
Time will show what adventures await him, I can only hope that he never completely shirks the name. Dirty!
Bifocals and Barbells 