Kenneth, born and raised in the South, resides in Hamilton, Alabama. He enjoys sharing his unique perspectives on life through his writing.
I’m not one for over-the-top cute. People, famous or average, with suffixes “Bo” bother me. About cute, I love cute puppies, kittens, teddy bears and in my single days, a few cute girls. Ahhh, good times. But if you will just take a good, long look, there has been a lot of people, mostly famous, with names that end with “Bo”: “Bo Duke,” played by John Schneider in CBS’ Dukes of Hazard, Dumbo, the humble elephant of Disney history, and this one: Jimbo Fisher, the current head coach of the ACCs Florida State Seminoles who took over for ACC coaching legend, Bobby Bowden. But if you look at Jimbo’s first name, the “Bo” is not just tacked on the last of his name to be cushy cute. It’s his real name.
But in Hank Williams, Jr.’s case, his best moniker is Bocephus, not Cephusbo. How stupid that would be. Bocephus was a ventriloquist dummy used by Country Comedy Legend, Rod Brassfield. Hank Williams, Sr.., was a good friend of Brassfield back in the early days of the Grand Ole Opry and Williams attached the Bocephus tag to his only son. And it stuck and since those days, Hank Jr. has done exceedingly well. But in all honesty, I would like to believe that his fame and fortune was NOT due to the Bocephus nick-name, but his various musical talents.
Here is a very slick parlor trick: Who isn’t familiar with Harpo, Groucho, Harpo, Zeppo and Gummo Marx? Did you notice how you pronounced their names? We all somehow, I think through our own God-given mental complexities, hear what a sound is saying. Example: GrouchO, not GrouchBO. The “O” is a mental con that makes us want to believe that there must have been a Bo somewhere at the end of Groucho and his brothers’ names. It took me hours to design that cute trick. You can also use this same principle as the Groucho suffix as Bozo, the Clown. Not BozBo. What an idiot I must sound like.
And as the opposite book-end, for as many famous “Bo’s” at the end of their names, Gretta GarBO for another, there are just as many stars with “Bo’s” used as a prefix. Bo Bice, once winner of American Idol; Bo Jackson, collegiate, NFL, and MLB legend, and of course, Bo “I’m a Man” Diddley. By now, you are either growing more and more involved with this narrative, but you might be growing a bit bored—after all, you did put in a few hours in your job today.
Now we call have a distinct knowledge of Bo’s at the end and first of a person’s name. With the one glaring exception of Jimbo Fisher, Florida State head coach. Just look at that name: Jimbo. What were his parents thinking? A simple change in Jimbo to James Bo Fisher would not only sound more mature, but more powerful and if you are into the college coaching business, your name had best be powerful or sometime, you might be ran over and laughed at by some husky recruit you landed from Possum Ridge, Ky., which brings me to a real American: Daniel BOOne, born Nov. 2, 1734, Homestead, Exeter Township, PA., Notice his last name is BOOne, not Bone. This slight mis-judgement from Boone’s folks might have made him an early laughing stock when he was growing up. “Hi, Daniel Bone, how’s the rest of your skeletal system?” See what I mean?
But with Mike Bobo, (notice that double last name?), this makes Jimbo’s name a little easier to cope with. Bobo was promoted by former Georgia Bulldogs (in the SEC) Mark Richt, as his offensive coordinator who then left Georgia to be the head coach of The Colorado State Rams. Bobo. Maybe it was all about his name.
I don’t want to come off as sounding like a person who blowviates every slur and guffaw associated with Jimbo Fisher’s name. I can pretty much assure you that when young Jimbo was a normal teen, he went out with countless beauties because of his name for sounding so cute and cuddly.
Can’t you just hear it: “Hey, there, Jimbo! You sure have a cute and cuddly name. Would you like to take me out tonight?” Some hot cheerleader named “Kayleee,” would say. And like other hubbers today might say . . .the rest is history.
© 2017 Kenneth Avery