What’s in a name?
As many Orange City Life readers will know, I originally hail from the ‘back o’ Bourke.’ Quite literally too, as I grew up on a red sandhill overlooking the grey floodplains west of the Darling River.
It was a great place to be as a kid. But, when I got older and left for the city, I found out that many things I considered normal about my childhood, were far from it. Not having mains electricity and relying on a generator are apparently not part of everyone’s childhood experience. Neither are chopping wood for the ‘donkey’ in order to have a hot shower, being almost out of primary school before commercial television arrived, nor someone my age knowing what a party line phone is (our first family phone number was ‘Paka Tank 1U’).
But when you live it, and don’t know any different, it is not something you think about, which brings us to how Bourke people address each other.
Australians love a good nickname, but in Bourke, I believe the art has been taken to a whole new level. Assigning nicknames is a pastime the whole town enjoys, and one locals have been playing for generations. Indeed, some nicknames are even passed from father to son like heirlooms; occasionally the names are modified to avoid confusion, so Dooka’s son becomes Young Dook, or other times the name is completely different, but derived through a weird comedic logic, so Maggoty Mick’s boy is now Blowfly — that sort of thing.
Outsiders coming to Bourke are surprised by how pervasive the use of nicknames are, while locals will unblinkingly introduce someone to them as ‘Bonka’, ‘Bull’ or ‘Bent Axle’.
It was a recent comment thread on a Bourke Facebook group got me realising just how many people I know by their nicknames for whom I would have difficulty recalling the name their mothers gave them. And I know I’m not the only one! There is a story (possibly apocryphal) of a town trivia night many years ago, where teams were stumped when asked to give the real names of members from a well-known local trucking family, but only known to all by their nicknames ‘Plugger’, ‘Popeye’, ‘Onion’, ‘Burloo’ and ‘Tart’.
And Bourkeites will, more often than not, introduce themselves by their nickname regardless of whether you meet them at the pub, in a park, or in a professional setting. The former town dentist, the late Ian Liddell, was known by everyone as ‘Tooth Fairy’ or more commonly just ‘Fairy’ and I don’t think I ever once heard him called by his Christian name (I had to think a bit to remember it for this piece!).
Now, having a name that can be shortened to ‘Jono’ has meant I have never really had a nickname stick other than the obvious ‘Roey’, ‘JR’ or ‘Young Paul’ — which was ever only used by a guy known as ‘Kat’ who knew my father but could never remember my name.
For a small outback community, it would still take a surprising amount of space to catalogue the nicknames that have accrued in Bourke over the years, but here’s just a tiny taste of rich nomenclatural practices of my home town: Bus, Bundy, Brisol, Brushy, Bonka, Bumchin, Bungy, Blue, Red, Purple, Possum, Puppy, Doggie, Chook, Ferret, Rooster, Weasel, Grub, Duck, Long Tack, Short Fork, Flute, Frig, Fats, Fang, Froggo, Five Bob, Ten Bob, Kacko, Pecker, Pineapple, Punchy, Storky, Sweeney, Slapper, Schooner, Splinter, Nooka, Diddilo, Disco, Dribbles, Sambo, Rambo, Nought, Chub, Sticky Tape, Tiddles, Meataxe and Mental — and that’s barely scratching the surface!
I’d say there’s probably a linguistic thesis or two there waiting to be written.