At various times in my life, I have been nicknamed. As a sixth-grader, I caught and sold baby turtles to my school mates.
For the first month or so I was in business, I charged a quarter per turtle. As demand declined, I gradually reduced the price until I was selling them for a nickel each. By that time, just about every grammar school student owned a pet baby turtle. I wouldn’t reveal where I was catching the turtles, but I became known as “Turtle Catcher.”
In high school, I spent much of my spare time prowling about in the woods, usually by myself, and was called “Hermit.”
I had a coon hound, and a friend of mine and I spent many winter evenings coon hunting. I took a liking to a girl, and she did to me, and she would frequently accompany me on my hunts.
Her name was Jean Malone and shortly before the junior-senior prom she said, “Robert, I want you to take me to the dance.”
I said, “Jean, you know I’m not interested in going to things like that, and besides, I don’t even know how to dance.”
“I’ll teach you how to dance,” she replied, “and if you refuse to learn and won’t take me to the dance, I’m not going coon hunting with you any more.”
I relented, learned to dance and escorted Jean to the prom.
I never learned how to waltz or jitterbug, and still don’t know how, shortcomings I’ll have to endure for my remaining years.
I lived with my family in Albany, Ga., before enrolling at Auburn in 1950.
On one of my trips home, my father handed me a letter and said, “This is for you. The postmaster suspected it might be, and we opened it together.”
The letter was addressed, “To the Best Coon Hunter in Albany, Georgia.”
It was from a high school friend of mine who had moved to California.
Contrast that with one I addressed several years ago to “Hon. Hal Smith, Lee County Probate Judge, Lee County Court House, Opelika, AL, 36801,” which was returned “Undeliverable, addressee unknown,” or something to that affect.
But I digress from the subject of the nicknames I’ve been called. My fraternity brothers decided “Catamount” was, for whatever reason, a good nickname. Since then, with good reason, I have been labeled “Snake Man,” and lumped with others who share my concerns about the environment as a “tree-hugger.”
Most recently I have been referred to as a “bug man.” I admit to being fascinated with insects: praying mantises, June bugs, scorpion flies, and tumble bugs, to name a few.
I regret so many species of our beneficial insects are no longer as abundant as they once were.
Bob Mount is emeritus professor of zoology and entomology at Auburn University and writes a weekly column for the Opelika-Auburn News.
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