The Holy Sacrament of Truncation

“And it came to pass in those days that Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee, and was baptized of John in Jordan. And straightway coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him: And there came a voice from heaven, saying, Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. And then the voice said, get cracking on those cost reports, Condon.”
- Mark 1: 9-11, sort of

Wikipedia defines having a God complex as “someone who is said to act so arrogantly that he might as well believe he is God or appointed to act by God.” Sufferers from such a psychological malady have included Napoleon Bonaparte, Caligula, and Matthew Lillard’s character in Hackers. Chris Condon is not part of that list, even though he is typing this sentence in the third person. But if he ever were to show up on that list, at least he’s got an alibi.

It’s all in the name.

My full name is Christopher Condon. In the world of standardized electronic forms, someone down the line has to decide the number of characters to provide for people to input the letters of their name. For last names, most forms allot 10-12 spaces. With the last name Condon, I’ve got room to spare.

But the first name, for reasons beyond my perception, is often limited to 8 characters, and on occasions a mere 6 characters. That’s fine; I understand that space is limited on those standard forms. But Christopher is 11 letters long. Which means that when it comes to the data entry world, I’m a perpetual victim of truncation. "Christop" does have a nice ring to it.

But as I’m reminded once every financial period, my company doesn’t have the 8-letter field, only the sixer. The mail guy shows up with my hard copy reports only to reveal the following report header:

DISTRIBUTION ID: 181454J
JOBNAME: JOB COST P13 FY06
RECIPIENT: CHRIST CONDON

Well, hallelujah, my reports are here. Praise the…me!

This hasn’t been the first time in my life that I’ve been mistaken for the Son of God. In elementary school, we’d devote a week in March to taking CAT tests to prove our mettle in word association, math, and language skills. And sure enough, the folks at the California Achievement Testing Board were short on time and spaces, so the six letter first name rule was instituted. But I ask the testing board this – wouldn’t Jesus get a 100% no matter the subject? Didn’t SATAN test Him during his 40 days of fasting, telling him to throw himself from the top of the temple? Yeah, look how well things turned out for the devil. The CATB was very lucky that Christ spared them despite their foolish test.

But I guess there is a flaw. The Bible says that there is only one God. And If I recall, I was in a class with 2 other Christophers, not to mention 1 Christine. Once the holy Sacrament of Truncation is performed, that makes 4 Christs, not 1.

And because I was surrounded my other potential Saviors, I knew from that point I was not in fact Christ, I just share the name. As a result, I do not have a God complex. (But if I could turn the water cooler into a wine cooler, that would rock.)

Wait a minute, wine coolers are for girls.