Imagine you were born in 1856, and your mother, whom you loved dearly, named you Oz. All is well and good for a nice long while until L. Frank Baum comes along and writes his book, The Wizard of Oz. Of course you curse his name, even though you have never met him, which is not really fair. He was a nice man after all and he meant you no harm. He loved his wife, and he predicted augmented reality and laptops. But it is unbearable, until
You change your name to L. It’s a beautiful name with a nice ring to it and now you are secretly safe and almost famous. Your life will continue apace, and you will do wonderful things, like read books. You now can read your brother’s books.