I am Liam. I am Leroy.
My parents gave me the moniker 'Liam'. They both grew up in the Celtic cultural melting pot that is Liverpool and were well versed in the beauty of Irish Christian names. They gave me one of the more boring ones. My brother got Dónal, which is much more exotic I'm sure you'll agree.
Anyway, Liam was the name that I and everyone I knew used for a long time. Until I met Mr Richard 'Beeky' Beek. We were both working at Aardman Animations on the film Chicken Run. This sounds very exciting and glamorous, I know. And it could be. But we did spend an inordinate amount of time doing really not very glamorous jobs - collecting mugs, ordering take away for a hundred people, sitting in traffic jams in vans, that kind of thing - and boredom was often an issue. It was during one particularly dull afternoon sitting around while people more talented than us did the cool stuff that Beeky announced that I was henceforth to known as Leroy.
Ask him why; I have no idea what the reasoning behind it was.
It stuck. With absolutely no encouragement from me, people started using it. To the point where my own wife uses my Beeky-given name in preference to the one my parents gave me. In fact, everyone I know outside of my family calls me Leroy, except at work where they call me Mr Owen. At least I get some respect, even if it's only from small children.
So, take your pick. Liam or Leroy. Or Mr Owen.
