Watching "Casino Royale" in November 2006 was most thrilling. Like a religious cult, the anonymous moviegoers and I left the cinema wanting to live in the world of James Bond and his girls. It was the biggest sensation of the season and best surprise of the year: a Bond film with substance and rawness that it was almost hysterically a movie phenomenon. Those who had seen it were more than excited for the next Bond installment. In my case, the film was enough for me to thank God for the affinity--sharing a name with such a suave modern cinema hero is humbling.

My father used to tell me that he named me after James Taylor, whose song "Sweet Baby James" is such a lovely lullaby and an ego booster to the thousand Jameses (Tiago, Jakob, Jaime) all over the world. But he also told me that he had been a James Bond fanatic even in his teenage years--unconsciously, maybe, he wanted his son to be a debonair, witty, toothsome savior of the world. Too bad I disappointed him by becoming a debonair, witty, toothsome mind-corrupter of Filipino-Chinese adolescents. But still, I have my own special mission or even high-tech gadgets: I dare say that I am a hero in the classroom. But who is this Sir James Nicolay?

I used to hate my name because it’s such an effort to pronounce it: the first cluster of consonants /dzh/, then a diphthong /ae-iy/, then the last combo /mzh/--James: /dzhaeiymzh/. I might as well be called Nebuchadnezzar.

In my basic education years, I had been called by my surname, which is not much difficult to pronounce. Plus, the Russian sound/twang of Nicolay is just more inviting than the troublesome James. Eventually--call it symbolic baptism--when I was 19, at the height of my life in the University of the Philippines, I introduced myself as James to new friends and acquaintances. I was donning a new identity, a new appellation for myself. It was like going back to the roots.

I’m in the mood for some Shakespearean question: What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. The name James is not really that bad. There were four US presidents sharing my name. And there are even many key literary figures (James Joyce, James Baldwin, Henry James, James Fenimore Cooper), actors and musicians (James Ingram, James Blunt, James Earl Jones, James Dean) and even fictional characters (James Bond, Harry James Potter).

Whenever a person is in love, his/her loved one’s name is the sweetest sound in the world. That’s why there are many good songs with names for titles. The Beatles has Michelle, Penny Lane, Lady Madonna, Dear Prudence and even Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

There is also something inexplicably sexy about a loved one’s name. The number of letters in the name suddenly counts like the colors in a tray of beautifully designed multiple servings of authentic Japanese cuisine. Imagine the name of your crush or loved one flashing at the screen of your cellphone: it can really make your heart skip a bit. The name has just become a living entity that has been regarded with trembling awe by one’s senses. It is unapologetically existing-- connecting one with his essence.

We did not choose a name for ourselves when we were born, but eventually we make our names more than our possessions--it is not simply a part of us but becomes our identity per se.

What’s in a name? I am James--also known as SirNicolay. I think that means something already. Better yet--just ask Bond: James Bond.

Image Source for the James Bond picture:

http://www.mtv.com/movies/photos/c/craig_bond_051014/a.jpg