Don't Stand Too Close to a Naked Man

said they just didn't feel comfortable flashing my real name onscreen. 'Surely you understand, Tim Dick? People will think you made it up just to be funny.' I wished I had. I wanted to be a comedian so much. But I relinquished the Dick to keep my spot on their show. The separation hurt less than I thought it would. And so began the career of Tim Allen.

But why am I even telling you this? A couple of reasons.

First. I believe my name created my life. Dealing from childhood with people's reactions helped form the basis of my humor about men and the differences between men and women. All my life, no one ever failed to remind me that my name is synonymous with the slang for penis. It's no wonder my self?image is so closely tied to that organ.

Second, and most poignant, I've always wanted to see the sentence 'I'm a Dick' in print. But then, haven't we all?

(For some reason, right now, I feel. . oh, never mind. It's silly. well-okay. I'm feeling very close to you, and yet kind of vulnerable.)

As an experiment, I'm going to use words like 'dick' and 'penis' here and there. It's not to be rude or offensive. They're just words. The symbols and meanings-positive, negative, enlightening, insultingare in our heads, which is why the power of some words has a lot to do with all the social and sexual dysfunction in this country. What I learned growing up is that we have power over words, not the other way around. People made fun of my name every day, but I learned to cope. I numbed myself. Maybe I can pass my immunity on to you.

It's okay. I've been tested.

- -

What's in a name? Interesting question to ponder. It depends on your point of view. A scholar might say that words or groups of words define our identities. The head of a successful corporation might say a name contains the power of association and reputation. I haven't really given it much thought. So let's see-what's in a name? I know. Maybe it's an endless cycle of excruciating torture causing tremendous pain and misery to a young boy who is knocked to his knees time and time again and made to suffer hell on earth merely because he is bound to a name that, when uttered, universally conjures up the image of male genitalia (specifically, the penis, and results in snickers and jeers from evil little children, who so easily find amusement in cruelty, and who so relish the poor boy's anguish, shame, and humiliation that he's left only to mutter the words 'character building? character building, my ass,' over and over like some escaped lunatic.

Or maybe it's just a collection of vowels and consonants.

Not that it ever bothered me. As a kid, all I had to do was say, 'Hi, I'm Tim Dick,' and I already knew that people saw me as a walking penis.

To this day I'm not exactly sure why it's so funny to everyone. Given the male organ's important role in society, and men and women's fondness for 'it,' you'd think that, instead of being teased, I'd be revered. The Carnegies of Pittsburgh. The Rockefellers of New York. The Dicks of Denver. I should have been a deity in high school. Girls should have sought out my advice, stood in line to date me. I should have been given the key to the city. (By the way, it's not too late for that.)

Tim Dick. Tin Dick. Thin Dick. Pin Dick. And then there's my Uncle Richard-a double Dick. And he named his son Peter. Nice.

In grade school the kids snickered at my name the same way they giggled when they had to sing the word 'bosom' in 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic.'

When I was older, my gym teachers-who clearly wished they were still in the Marines-always paused at my name.

In class, I knew the alphabet better than anybody. And I feared whosever name came before mine, especially on the first day of school. I can still feel the old heartburn and anxiety. 'Aaron, Becker, Bendleston, Cochran, Dachman, Decker, DICK!' It seemed like the guy was yelling it through a megaphone. The whole class would stop talking, and everybody would stare at me like I resembled my name.

The guys in high school were relentless.

'What's your name?'

'Tim Dick.'

'Dick! Hahaha! Like Penis'? Hahaha!' I wasn't just going to stand there and take it, so I'd have to run through a whole routine just to defuse the situation. When they'd say, 'Your dad shoulda called you Harry,' I could mouth the words along with my tormentors. I'd go, 'Oh, wow, Harry. You should be a comedian. Harry. Real original! I've never heard that one. How about Big? That's a fine Irish name! Lotsa guys named Big. How about Thick? You're a funny guy!'

For a while I hated everyone and the teasing caused me unnecessary grief. But in retrospect, it made me a better person. Now I have to thank my name for making my life special. This wouldn't have happened if I were Tim Dack, or Tim Deck, or Tim Dock.

Maybe Tim Cock, though.

After graduation, just when I thought I'd been through it all, I met a woman in a sporting-goods store where I worked. She was mature and had six kids. Out of nowhere she said, 'Too bad you don't have a sister named Anita.'

Anita Dick. Now that is really funny.

- -

When you're a kid you never really call what you've got by its real name. Anything but that. Dicks were big in my family-naturally. Then there's boner, chubby, Hank, pecker, willy, Mr. Happy, pocket rocket, trouser trout, joystick, and 'it.' There are millions of synonyms. Of course, my all-time favorite is Big Sam and the Twins. Go figure.

Women have names for it, too.

But they won't tell us.

You can say 'penis' in front of your parents. Otherwise, we use the word only when speaking medically. Doctors say, 'I have to see your penis,' which sounds like you need to get something lanced. My doctor calls it a 'unit.' I don't argue. I've seen how he holds his golf club.

When you're a boy, the penis is mostly a yardstick by which to measure growth.

I remember the first time I saw my dad's. He, my brothers, and I were gathered in the bathroom. Then I looked at it. I have no idea why-maybe because I was just waist-high-?and it was the most shocking thing I'd ever seen. It was so frightening that I swore I would never want anything like that in all my life. I now know that you have to be careful what you wish for.

- -

'Vagina' is a funny word. Almost as funny as 'penis.' I always stumble over it-I mean the word. Va?gi?na. Women don't even use the word. I know one woman who uses 'ginnie.' Ginnie is more personable, I guess.

I say this all in the most respectful way, you understand. Since I have a daughter, I have to teach her what to call it, and it can't be 'down there'-the name I cleverly created-all her life. One reason I think we get so screwed up is not calling things by the right name.

So: A man has a penis. A woman has a boom?ba. Okay, I'll be honest, she's got a goo?goo. I don't know why this is so difficult. My daughter already calls it a butty?butt. I said, 'You have, as you well know, a butty?butt.' But she calls everything in that area a buttybutt.

Please tall me this will pass.

My daughter also has major questions about why I can pee standing up. She automatically assumes it's a better deal. I didn't say anything, but who knows what she hears at school. So I said, 'No, you're lucky. You get to sit.' She goes, 'When I grow up I'll be able to pee standing up.' I thought, that'd be interesting. I feel bad for women. They have to go through such a to?do to go to the bathroom. And they can't write their names in the snow without a lot of acrobatics.

- -

Before we figure out that we can play doctor, we rely on sex-education films, science books, and that old standby National Geographic, to reveal what we've got. . down there.

Those medical illustrations are pretty weird, aren't they? The man is cross?sectioned so that you get a limp side view. And women are cut along an axis between front and back, which makes their internal reproductive system look like there's a water buffalo trapped inside. Or an inverted penis. After seeing those diagrams, I actually