As some of you may know, I used to work at Lockheed Martin. [Ed. Note: For a reminder of how Dave feels about that, go here] When working in a company as large as Lockheed, you are very likely to work on a project without ever meeting several members of your team; only contacting them through telecon’s and e-mail.

In one particular situation, I was in exclusively e-mail communication with a Quality Engineer. He had the absolutely best name, to the point where I decided unequivocally to name my first-born son in his honor. His name, gentle curious readers, was:

Panelo Jack

Awesome! Everytime I read it in my Inbox, I’d say, “Arggggh! I be Panelo Jack, scourge of the Seven Seas!” which would, more often than not, be followed by my best estimate of a peg-legged jig. I cannot tell you, how much I loved this name. I called praises upon Panelo Jack’s parents for their bravery and good foresight in bequeathing upon their offspring such a proud and intimidating name. I honored further Panelo Jack himself for actually keeping such a name and not changing it to say, John Tesh (speaking of which, did you know that he’s a pawn in the new Communist regime?).

Imagine my disapointment when I found out one day that my mighty sea-captain was, in fact, named Jack Panelo. Ah maaaaaaan!

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