A while ago in Who the Heck is this Becks Davis Chick? I gave Detroit Moxie readers a choice between two future posts. Bent out of Shape was the clear winner but here is Walking on Sunshine.
I’m not sure if it was the hormones or what but my mom wanted to name me Sunshine, you know, so people would call me Sunny. Good thinking, mom, kids would never make fun of a girl named Sunny!
It should be noted that although I was born in 1969 my parents were not hippies. They were born in the 40’s and were the typical teeny boppers of the 50’s. Think poodle skirts and white socks with black shoes.
My aunt, dad, and mom. This picture was taken around the time I was born. See, they are not hippies!
They did become a little crazy in the 70’s when my dad and brother got matching afros and my mom wore a long, red, Ann Margaret wig. Oh, and the blue walls in our living room had a yellow stripe at the top that culminated in an arrow on the landing.
This picture, however, makes them look a bit more like hippies! Dad has a Saturday Night Fever thing going on.
But they weren’t free spirited hippies!
I don’t think my disposition really fits with Sunshine and luckily I had someone on my side. My dad wasn’t hip to this Sunshine/Sunny moniker and told my mom, “Rebecca or Sarah, you have a choice.”
For the love of all things reasonable, thank you dad!
And so I was named Rebecca.
I was called Becki. Yes, spelled with an ‘i’.
Why the ‘i’? Once again, I have to blame my mom here. She unconventionally ends her name with an ‘i’ and I think she was trying to pass that on to me. Not only does she spell it with an ‘i’, she’s been known to dot it underneath.
You know, when you spell your name differently you don’t get to buy key chains or other tchotchkes with your name on them while on vacation. I’m just throwing that out there.
Besides not being able to buy key chains with your name on it, spelling your name weird means that everyone misspells it.
I AM NOT BECKY! I know it might seem like a small thing but it looks and feels totally different to me. It’s as annoying as the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard.
Did I mention my maiden name? It’s long and Polish: Owczarski. It’s pronounced of-char-ski. My dad told me it meant “son of czar;” for years I thought I was related to some high-powered people. Turns out, it means shepherd.
My best friends couldn’t spell the damn name so I was known as Becki O. Spelling my last name constantly became a chore, “O-W, C as in Charlie, Z as in Zebra...”
Sometimes when saying of-char-ski people would ask, “of where?” When I tried to get around that by saying O’charski I was called out by an extremely short nun for trying to be Irish.
I lost the long, Polish last name when I got married. Davis. Simple enough.
Actually, it’s not so simple. The surnames Davis and Davies are pronounced the same in the UK. I thought I was finished with spelling my last name but I wasn’t so lucky. I either had to spell it or was asked if that was with an E.
When I joined Facebook, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be found. And that is how Becks Davis was born.
The truth is that all my close friends and family, the people who loved me and said my name a lot, dropped the ‘i’. They just called me Beck or Becks. And it stuck.
I prefer Beck or Becks but I won’t kill you if you call me Becki, as long as you spell it correctly. Just a warning, if you call me Rebecca you’ll get the evil eye.
My mom and I still buy each other sunflowers and cards with some kind of sun on them. Hell, I know all the lyrics of “You are My Sunshine” because she sang it to me so often.
After all that, I do miss my long, Polish last name. But I’m pretty happy that I’m not Sunny Davis. I’m sure some clever person would be calling me Sunny D.
Thursday, July 29, 2010 at 12:06PM | 
4. Midwest Motorcycle Fest - This celebration of the open road will feature entertainment, custom and sport bike shows, riding skill displays, and fun-filled activities for everyone. Mini Kiss, a Kiss tribute band made up of midgets, will perform. July 29-August 1st.
