The River

Yesterday, I met a couple going to Beijing and a boy studying Chinese. It made me remember my younger days.

There was a time when your last name told something about what you did or where you came from.

I once briefly saw a woman named Zelle, meaning cabinet in German. She figured some ancestor made cabinets. That, or hid bodies inside them.

My name was won by some ancestor who did some great deed and was asked by the emperor what he wanted. Like all good Chinese, he said, simply, “Land.”

So, 1200 years ago, he was given a tract of land in northern China in the Bing Province with a river on it – the Luo River.

Fast forward to 20070402, and I’m Lo/Luo version 120b.

Imagine if we started over again today.

We’d have names like, “Pete Accountmanager” or “Mandy Producer.” Or names like, “Edward Google,” “Sandy Fresh Direct” or “John Morgan Stanley.”

OK, maybe that last one works. You get my point.

1201 years of work and I’m the result. It’s humbling and laughable.

I know where I come from.

But where am I going?