What's in a name? If it's famous, everything

The City of Troy has its Elizabeth Taylor, and Utica, its Jane Fonda.

There is a Katie Holmes residing in South Glens Falls, a Michael Jackson in Fort Ann, and Schenectady has gone the way of Hogwarts and wizards with Harry Potter, living somewhere among its citizens.

"It's definitely more amusing to other people than it is to me," says Megan Ryan, who makes her home in Clifton Park, and is among those that happen to share the name of a famous counterpart. It can make normal, everyday life a little less normal on an everyday basis.

"It's pretty funny when I go to use my credit card or to sign for something," says Ryan, who describes herself coincidentally, as fair-skinned with blue eyes.

"At my work, I have to wear a name tag, so if there's someone new working there, they'll look over and make a comment like, 'Oh, Meg Ryan's here' It makes me laugh, even though I've never gone by the (shortened) name Meg," she explains.

"But it still happens pretty much all the time. I've gotten used to it," says Ryan, expressing a sense of humor about it all.

You can imagine the joking around can wear pretty thin for people like Keith Richards of Whitehall, Broadalbin's Dick Cheney, Howard Hughes of Albany and the Ballston Spa-based duo Will Smith and Jim Carey.

Then there is Kurt Vonnegut, who is dealing with the notoriety of his name just fine.

Actually, there are two Kurt Vonneguts in the world. One was born in Indiana in 1922, joining the U.S. Army during WW II, when he was taken as a prisoner of war. Witnessed the bombing of Dresden, Germany, his experiences would later form the work of the classic book "Slaughterhouse-Five."

The other Vonnegut was born in 1960 and graduated from Utica College with a degree in construction management. He is an estimator for a construction company and lives in Schuylerville.

"I think Kurt Vonnegut (the writer) is great," says Kurt Vonnegut of Schuylerville, reciting an impressive list of titles off the top of his head that includes "Slaughterhouse-Five," "The Sirens of Titan," and "Cat's Cradle."

"I've read all of his books. It's kind of mandatory," he says. "I would say three out of every 10 people I meet ask about the name. I'll get mailed manuscripts and commencement invitations, birthday cards that say, 'You're my wife's favorite author. Can you sign this for her?' I get people asking if I wrote 'Slaughterhouse-Five.' I tell them, 'Oh yeah. I whipped that up when I was about 5 years old," he laughs.

Perhaps offsetting the disturbance of middle of the night telephone calls from people who Vonnegut describes as "having had a few," are the occasions of showing up at a restaurant after making reservations and discovering a pretty decent table waiting for him. Since the Internet has become more accessible the past few years, he says more people have been stumbling across his name and address and seeking him out.

"A year or so ago, I came home and opened my mailbox and found a copy of 'Slaughterhouse-Five' and a handwritten note," he recalls. "It was from a couple of college guys who decided to drive from Notre Dame to Schuylerville on a whim, because they wanted to meet the author Kurt Vonnegut.

In the note, they explained they couldn't wait around any longer because they had to get back to Notre Dame for classes."

Kurt isn't the only Vonnegut the Schuylerville man is asked about.

"My father, Bernard is a pretty well-known atmospheric scientist," he says about his father, who passed away in 1997. Among his lifetime achievements, Bernard Vonnegut is credited with discovering that silver iodide could be used effectively in cloud seeding to produce snow and rain. Kurt Vonnegut of Schuylerville carries around a head full of knowledge regarding Kurt Vonnegut, the author. As it turns out, the coincidental names are no coincidence. "Kurt Vonnegut, the writer, is my uncle," says the Schuylerville man.

"My father, Bernard, was his older brother. He was the one who got him that job at GE in Schenectady, where his first novel, 'Player Piano,' is based. In fact, while my uncle was working there, he was writing short stories and found out that he could make more money writing for the Saturday Evening Post and Collier's than he could working at GE," he says.

So, a literary lion was born - and, a famous name to be shared.

"I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse," says Vonnegut about the only name he's ever known. "But 90 percent of the time people are pretty positive about it."

by Thomas Dimopoulos
The Saratogian, June 30, 2006