Humphrey Bogart

My name is Humphrey Bogart.  Yes, that’s right, Humphrey Bogart.  But, not the one you’re thinking of.  The actor died back in 1957.  I wasn’t born until 1980.  My naming was the bright idea of my father, Jim Bogart, a resident of Cincinnati, Ohio and not related to the other guy.  Seems he thought it would be pretty cool if his son had a famous name.  My mother kind of objected, but since he had agreed to her choices for the names of my two older sisters, she acquiesced. 

When I was a little boy, I could hardly say “Humphrey.”  The best I could do was “Hump.”  So I was Hump Bogart all the way up to my high school graduation.  But when I arrived at The Ohio State University in Columbus for my freshman year, I decided that I would be an adult, and thus I became Humphrey, not Hump, Bogart.

I didn’t even realize that someone else had my name until I was ten years old and my dad finally told me.  It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I saw Casablanca.  It was all so weird that this older guy in a black-and-white movie had stolen my name.  I kind of liked the movie, but I wish there had been a different leading man.  Up until recently, I had never seen any of his other films and knew very little about him or his life other than that he was dead.

After I graduated from college in 2003, I got a job in Ann Arbor, Michigan, as a manager-trainee with Walmart.  I’ve been with them now for a little over four years, working my way up.  I do OK financially and have a pretty good social life.  I have my own apartment near the U of M campus, but I don’t tell anybody I’m a Buckeye (nickname of The Ohio State University) through and through.  One thing I’ve noticed is that most people don’t even realize I have a famous name.  So, it’s a little surprising when someone calls me on it.

I was at a local bar the first week of last November when I bought this attractive redhead a drink, a margarita.  I introduced myself and she laughed in my face, hysterically.  Seems she is minoring in film history at Michigan.  Her name is Zoe and Zoe thought it was great opening line.  I thereupon whipped out my driver license to prove what my real name was.  Then she insisted I had changed my name to impersonate my favorite movie star.  I had to give her the whole story of my life to prove who I really was.  I think I convinced her.

Well, it turns out Zoe had done a term paper on several of the other guy’s early films, ones before Casablanca.  I think I remembered enough from my one time viewing of that picture that I didn’t seem like a complete dummy.  She was kind of charmed to be with a guy named Humphrey Bogart.  I was charmed to be with an attractive redhead who was charmed to be with me, for whatever reason.

We had a couple of more drinks before she accepted my offer to walk her home to her off-campus apartment.  She invited me to come over to her place the following Saturday afternoon to watch one of the other guy’s early films, High Sierra.  What the Hell!  I accepted.  I thought it would be just the two of us, a private screening, followed by “coming attractions.”  Well, she invited three other friends, a gay guy and two girls.  So, I took a deep breath and watched the film. 

The other guy in High Sierra portrays an ex-con, Roy, who once out of prison goes straight back to a life of crime, leading a gang planning a robbery at a resort in California.  He’s a real no-nonsense type, tough with the men, but softer with a female love interest (two actually) and especially with a stray dog named Pard.  Back in 1941 Hollywood had to show that crime doesn’t pay, so of course, Roy is killed in the end by the police.  But, he was such a good bad guy that I felt sorry for him.

I felt so impressed with the other guy that I begged Zoe to let us see Casablanca as the second half of our Saturday afternoon double feature.  It was almost as if I had never seen it before.  Well, I was only thirteen the previous time.  Again, the other guy portrayed a no-nonsense type, a highly principled man, who in Casablanca was on the right side.  This time, he killed the bad guy.  I know he was just an actor playing a part he was paid to do, but he did it so well.  I became an admirer.  My dad could have done a lot worse when he named me.

I began to think more and more about the other guy’s film personna and how it reflected on me, a man who carried around his name 24/7.  Was it a good or a bad thing?  I pondered.  Could I learn something that could help me in my life?  One thing he stood for was being courageous, not to be afraid to stand up for what you wanted or believed in. 

I mentioned that I was a Buckeye living in the home town of their arch rival, the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor.  But this had been a secret because of my fear of ... I didn’t know exactly what.  I told nobody where I went to school.  I never wore my school colors nor showed off my diploma.  This was going to have to change.  I wanted it to change.  I was proud of my alma mater and I needed to display my pride.

The following Saturday (November 17, 2007) was the annual Ohio State-Michigan football game, this year at the Big House in Ann Arbor.  I got out my scarlet and gray sweatshirt and marched into the Wolverine’s student section and surrounded myself in a sea of maize and blue.  I was taunted and verbally abused for almost three hours, but Ohio State was victorious, 14-3.  I walked out of there with my head held high.  I promised myself that I would never let fear stop me again.

Just after the holiday season was over and things returned to a certain normality at Walmart, I went straight to my boss, the store manager, early one Monday morning and raised the issue of my career and where it was headed.  He seemed impressed with my straight forwardness.  Two weeks later I got a promotion and a raise.  I was a little nervous about my new responsibilities, but that didn’t stop me at all.

Right around the same time, I received a call from Zoe.  Seems she was in that mob of Michigan students harrassing me at the football game.  At first she was embarrassed that she knew me.  However, she had to admit it took guts to do what I had done.  Embarrassment turned to admiration, sort of like the other guy in the movies we had watched.  Zoe said that she had been hoping that I would call her again, but finally called me instead.  I apologized that I had been so busy at work that I had no time to call anybody.  She asked me out for a date.  Wow!  I accepted.  We’re having dinner next Saturday night.

I am wondering, though.  To her, am I Humphrey Bogart, or the other guy?