'I'm not 'Mr X', that's my father!'

As best I recall, the first time I encountered some leftist (*) dip insist, upon being referred to as "Mr X", that "I'm not 'Mr X', that's my father!" was during my freshman year of college, back in the mid-1970s.

The particular dip I first recall saying it was a "motorcycle Marxist-atheist" professor of anthropology and sociology -- complete with the motorcycle on which he buzzed around campus, and the Dunlap’s Disease (**) that seems to go with being a middle-aged motorcyclist, and a grey ponytail down to his waist, if he’d had a waist, and an ex-wife whom he had ditched on the grounds that he “had stayed in Academy and had continued to grow, while she had just stayed home and raised the children”, and the new wife/former student, who was surely instrumental in his “growth” … and an all-too-apparent contempt for “religious nuts”, including yours truly.

What the dips who say that mean is, “I refuse to be an adult member of society – I will constantly demand the benefits of adulthood, but I will always shirk the responsibilities of adulthood.”

This reminiscence was prompted by my visit to a grocery store this morning. I paid for my purchase with a credit card – meaning that my full name was made known to the store’s computer systems – and then the cashier said, “Thank you, Mr X”. What a delight that was!

You see, at most stores, in response to the institutional immaturity of the infamous Baby-Boomers, the cashiers are trained to address the public familiarly, by their Christian names (when known), as though addressing children, rather than by their surnames, as is proper when addressing an adult in such a context.

(*) the people who spout that foolishness, vainly imagining they've said something profound, are *always* "liberals", or even full-blown leftists.

(**) “Dunlap’s Disease” is an old joke, referring (generally) to a man whose belly has “done lapped over his belt”.