My creation myth

Every religion, every mythology, has a creation story. Most characters in ancient mythology also have personal creation stories. I like to believe we all have our own individual creation myths – certain unique facts about our birth that differentiate us from others.

The most interesting thing about my birth is not that I was born in a manger or I’m descended from Zeus. The most interesting thing is the mystery surrounding my birth certificate.

No, I wasn’t born in Kenya. 

The mystery is I don’t know what my name is. Nobody does.

Flashback to the fall of 2007, to my senior year of high school. My life was dominated by college entrance applications and essays. One day, in the midst of all this planning for my future, my mother dropped a bombshell.

“You should probably being filling out those applications with your given birth name.”

All my life I’d been told my name was Dylan Michael Judge-Hoff. That was the name I’d used my whole life. Reality was suddenly collapsing around me as I discovered my whole life was a lie.

My birth certificate actually reads Dylan Michael-Judge Hoff. Did you catch it? It’s a small difference, but enough to shatter the confident worldview I had established by the age of 17 (and really, don’t we know everything about life there is to know at 17). It’s also one of the few things my parents still argue about.

According to my mother, the hyphen is supposed to go between Judge and Hoff (the last names of both parents). She blames the doctor for misplacing the hyphen.

My father tells a different story. He says the doctor got it right, but that moving the hyphen was a way to ease tension over what my last name should be – especially in light of my parents’ divorce when I was seven years old. They just never bothered to make it official.

So there you have it. I don’t know my own name, and neither do my parents. I suppose I could look up the doctor at the heart of this mystery, but I doubt he has any recollection of the incident. I’m just one of a million babies he delivered.

This is why every day since that stunning revelation I wake up in the morning with a fresh case of identity crisis. I don’t know who I am! And all because of a stupid hyphen!

I’m “The Man with No Name.” Sounds like a James Bond flick, or maybe an Alfred Hitchcock film. Somebody get me an agent, I think I can sell this as a movie script!

This bizarre little tidbit of information is a great icebreaker at parties, however.

“So you just returned from backpacking in Europe, huh? I’ll bet that was fun. Me? Oh, there’s nothing interesting about me. Except that I have no name. Yes, I am like an international man of mystery.”

My solution to all of this is to give my name simply as Dylan Hoff. I leave out the rest with the confusing hyphen controversy if I can help it. Although I am rather fond of the solution a couple of friends suggested one time: just add a hyphen between each name. Dylan-Michael-Judge-Hoff. Maybe I’ll try that in the future.

Survey says...

I don’t expect this blog to ever really take-off and result in me becoming an Internet star, but I’ve always been one to hedge my bets and be prepared. So I’ve come up with this blog post that anyone can read and get a quick survey of who I am. This way they don’t have to read over several blog posts to decide if they like me or not, they can just read this and carry on.

Think of it as an FAQ. A cheat sheet. The tale of the tape. A personal survey.

Name: 

Dylan Hoff

Hometown: 

San Francisco, CA

Ethnicity: 

German-Irish (you’d think I’d be a heavy drinker, but it hasn’t happened yet)

Sex: 

Yes, please. Oh, you mean like my gender? Male

College: 

Washington State University

Pets:

Two dogs, two cats, two goats, one goldfish

Politics: 

Let’s just say if I lived in Scandinavia I’d have a political party I could fully get behind.

Religion: 

Vaguely Christian (still figuring this one out)

Favorite movie: 

The Godfather

Favorite TV show: 

Of all-time – Mystery Science Theater 3000. Currently on-the-air – Justified, although The Newsroom is a close second.

Favorite color(s): 

Red, white and blue, baby! ‘Merica!

Favorite song: 

The Promised Land by Bruce Springsteen

Favorite book: 

I’m going to cheat and pick three books, the Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud.

Favorite food: 

Bald eagle. “Tastes like freedom!”

Favorite sports teams: 

San Francisco Giants and San Francisco 49ers

Favorite city (besides hometown): 

I grew quite fond of my college town, Pullman, but I also like Sacramento and New Orleans

Favorite American Idol winner: 

If forced to answer, I'll pick the guy with the same first name as last. Phillip Phillips, is that him?

Favorite Kardashian sister: 

None

Favorite Jersey Shore cast member: 

Who is writing this survey?

Favorite Stooge: 

That’s more like it! Curly

Favorite Doctor:  

Matt Smith

Favorite Vlogbrother: 

John Green

Joel or Mike?

Mike (we’re definitely in the nerd section of this survey now)

Mac or PC?

PC

Coke or Pepsi?

Coca-Cola

Nicknames: 

D-Train, The Prince of Grove Street, Stomper, Tenacious D, StroganHoff, Dylane, Dil-Dil, Dillywiggles, D-Wigz, Daddy Hoff, The Moral Compass

If you could be any animal, what would it be?

Godzilla

If you were a professional wrestler, what would your name be?

The Judge, and my finishing move would be called The Final Verdict.

If you could have dinner with five famous people, living or dead, who would you invite?

Groucho Marx, Jon Stewart, Willie Mays, Clarence Clemons and Bruce Springsteen

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

The ability to make everyone laugh

 
There. That should just about cover it. Feel free to ask any questions you might have in comments and maybe I’ll answer them.

Only fools rush in

I’ve generally thought of blogging as a foolish endeavor. A way for people to stroke their egos online; believing everyone needs to read their every inane thought. Of course, I once thought the same about Facebook. I caved three months into my college experience on that one.

Blogging, however, I stayed away from until now – three months after my college experience ended.

I don’t read blogs. I don’t follow any popular blogs or bloggers. I have several friends who blog, but I barely read them (yeah I know, I’m a terrible friend). My own mother keeps a blog. I don’t think I’ve read one of her posts since 2010.

Yet here I am, writing an introductory blog to what may or may not become a recurring thing for me. 

So how did I get to this point?

The bottom line is I’m bored. EXTREMELY bored. Bored to the point where I’m losing my sanity (if I ever had any to begin with).

I’m currently living the wonderful life of a graduated communication major. I’m actually feeling jealous of English majors and the cushy jobs they’re landing while I have only managed one job interview so far. I’m in desperate need of some ego-stroking.

So basically I’m doing what I do best: writing. Not the most marketable skill, but it’s one of the few things I’m good at. That, and acting foolish.

I love all things foolish. I love the silly and the absurd. The only thing I might love more is good storytelling. Not just the storytelling you find in books, but in music, movies, TV and the stories we tell each other in day-to-day life.

I want to tell some stories. Preferably some foolish stories. Stories that will be too good to be true, which is how you’ll know they are real, and stories so rooted in fiction and fantasy that you’ll believe I couldn’t possibly have made them up. 

This blog will basically be one long story. The story of my silly, absurd, foolish life; told from my own biased perspective. All the highs and lows, all the peaks and valleys (and there have certainly been no shortage of valleys lately) and all the foolishness in-between. Hopefully I can make a few people laugh.

That is why I’m taking a stab at blogging. That is what I hope to achieve with this.

But I’ll be damned if I cave to societal pressure a third time and open a Twitter account!