We've all had nicknames in our lives. Some still persist, whether we like them or not. Whether they were picked up in school, from freinds or family, doesn't always matter.
Now I've had a few nicknames in my life, but only two ever meant anything, I think. They are also the only two that survived for a while, despite the fact that (with one of them) my last name was boldly printed over my left breast pocket. In order, these nicknames were "Tiny" (And yes, I've heard the jokes, go away now 
I was recently asked about the later. Not for the first time I'm sure. I figure this may be as good a time as any, if not a little over-due, to shed a little light on the Shadow. (Pun intended.) Or at least my take on it, and nicknames in general. (This could also cut down on me repeating a story or two so that people don't feel like smacking me. Least not for this. LOL)
The first, "Tiny", I recieved in the military. My first week in actually, not just wet behind the ears but down right swimming in the whole "Oh s.... what have I signed myself up for?" thing. Not even a month out of high school when I found myself sitting in the reception area of pne reception building or an other with several of my soon to be platoon mates.Here I was, eighteen and about fifty pounds over weight, and a good several inches shorter then most of those around me at an astounding 5' 4" tall. (Ok, I'm depressing myself here for some reason. LOL) Anyway, The conversations started innocently enough with the four or five of us getting to know each other a little better while we waited for whatever was next.(In this case I think it was our haircuts, and our elustrius inprocessing Seargant was waiting till the area was a little clearer before taking us over. Though we didn't know that. If you have ever been in the military, you understand the feeling. Superiors don't always explain whats going on, just that you're to hurry up and wait.)
The conversation quickly turned to nicknames for some reason. More directly that we should choose or find our own before any are chosen for us. The popular suggestion for me was obviously "Tiny" because of my weight. Maybe I should have been a little more offended or upset about it than I was, but...well let's face it I was and am rather honest with myself. Even if I don't share those bits of honesty with those around me or the world. I knew I had a weight problem, and that it would need to be dealt with. Which it also would be over the next few months, whether I actually aided in that process or not.
The nickname stuck, obviously. To the point that with most I wasn't Private Bel....I was simply "Tiny". Even to one of my Drill Instructors, as I became one of his projects. I remember more than once hearing the phrase "Oh Tiiiinyyyyy..." and finding myself in position to do at least ten to twenty push-ups. Even in the wee hours of the morning. (I had always thought 5a.m. was a quant thing people talked about untill I started waking up at this hour regularly. LOL) As a side note, I'd still like to thank those D.I.s. I think they showed me more about myself at the time then I would have ever found out on my own. But I digress...
We also heard a few rumours, started at least in seed form by our Drill Instructors about recycling. (No not paper, plastic, or metals...us!) I got a bit driven at this point and was determined to not be recycled. The thought of putting a little more behind the nickname besides my gut didn't help/hurt either. I wanted it to be a little more then just a zing on my weight. Even if by the end of the eight weeks it also cost me a little integrity in my hearing. (I refused to be recycled because I went to sick-call too often like some were aparently doing. Although...well, all I can say it, if you get an ear infection and it lasts for more then a day or so....get it taken care of.) Needless to say, by the end of training, and thirty so pounds less...I made it and wasn't getting the same looks from my comrades as I was in the beginning. I had earned, it seemed, a little respect, and put myself in a new light. Though I probably wouldn't have put it this way at the time. It was a pretty nice feeling to know "Tiny" just wasn't the fat kid. LOL
The nickname stuck, even on into advanced training since many of us were going into the same feilds of expertice. We showed up at the same base for Tech. Training. (A.I.T. for those that care, or know the deal. LOL) They called me "Tiny", My room-mate, again from the same basic Training unit, called me "Tiny"...well, you get the idea. Most I met started calling me the same. My training here was again about an other two months. During which time, looking back, I got to be known as the guy a lot of folks could talk to if they needed to vent, or just keep company with. A bit odd, but a sweet guy I guess. Ready to bum a cigarette or hand, even if I did "Barter" that Cig out for a freindly hug or peck on the cheek from some of my female comrades. (Don't ask exactly how that started. I'm not sure, but neither they or I seemed to mind much. LOL)
I had one freind that I kept in touch with for several years after my training days. It wasn't untill much later that she informed me that she never really knew my name, becoming so used to "Tiny". This seemed odd and phased me a little. Especially seeing that my name, agan, was enblazened across my left breast.
Anyway, the nickname, except with a long distance freind or two, didn't survive much beyond training. Though, I find there is still a certain power in the name. Or is it a title of a form? Still, when I hear the word, for whatever reason, Or maybe something happens and a certain string of thoughts cross my mind, bringing it up...I sit up a little taller, stand a little streighter.Honestly, I feel I am still "Tiny". That young nieve kid of twenty some years ago...Ah, nestalgia. 
Now to Shadow. Yes ya blond tree, this one's for you. 
Many (Many? Dear Goddess I think I'm getting old! LOL) years ago, not long after I found my way out of the military, and before access to the "Internet" became wide spread I made a habot of calling a local BBS. For those of you that are far too familiar with the internet, a BBS is what existed in the "Stone Age" of computer networking. People could call these systems with their PC's and get much the same effect as one does on the Internet, but on a somewhat smaller scale. Okay, enough with the computing lesson, if you still have quiestions about BBS's, ask your parents or look it up on Google or Yahoo or something. LOL
When I logged into this system, which shall for the point of this blog remain nameless. Especially since I think it's been defunct (Down, closed, trashed, whatever) for probably over a decade. Err, anyway, when I logged into this system I chose the handle "Shadow". Why? A few simple reasons. I rather liked it, and rthe feel of it. To me a shadow is nothing more then an area which has yet to be eluminated. That which is unseen untill someone decides to take a look. Which still holds true, and there are still a few who call me Shadow. For some reason, they liked what they saw and stuck around. (Why I'm not always sure, but I'm glad one or two of them did.)
It has been a long time since those days, and like with the previous nickname, this one has evolved a little over time. Though not the same way, certainly. It represents a part of me that in many ways people usually see. The odd guy that falls to the shadows of the group most of the time. Listening, ready to add to the group when the chance arises. I'm not trying in any way attempting to ellicit pity of any form here. It's how I am. Again, good or bad.
Now, yes, it has evolved a bit over time. To me the Shadow represents in some part the reserve that is there, can be found, but only if one looks for it. For those things that lay beyond what most people see, or care to find unless it is readily available. Sorry, especially with a person, ya gotta dig a little deeper. Even at timespulling it out kicking and screaming 'cuze it is sunk in rather deep like that persistant weed in the garden. LOL Or in this case a rather nice tuber.(Uh...potato? Carrot? That sort of thing.) Also...I know I don't always share things like my feelings and opinions. Even to my own detriment.
I have a freind or two, who I gladly and proudly call freind, who has shone the figurative light on the Shadow. They obviously found something worth sticking around for, and in once case I'll admite to, even a bit of trash or two, and for some reason still stayed. One has even been through a trial or two with me. Ugh. Though bad, these trials have lent a certain meaning to the nickname.
So...am I the shadow? Yes. Why am I Shadow...because of that which I mentioned before. I tend to fall to the shadows. It is where I find a certain strength. I also find, that like the shadows, I have much to share (Good and bad like most people) that simply needs the light figurativly shone on it. Which few seem to really do since it's too much of a bother. (Many I find, would rather stick with the convenient, the obvious. Rather than look into the darkness and bring light.)
I am the Shadow, walking by the sidelines. Sometimes lonely, but (I think) never quite alone. Don't be afraid to dig through the perv, oddball veneer, or shine a light into the darkened room full of shadows. You may find things which are worthwhile. Even for a cobweb or skeleton or two.
To my freind that asked...I hope this helps a little. For anything more, get out the trusty flashlight....and knock me over the head with it. LOL (Yeah, the like fifty amp one ya run with the car battery! 
For the rest, and even my freinds, buddies, and...well however you might classify...
Sometimes...Nicknames have power. Sometimes they can even lend us strength. So don't just cast them off. Keep them, on occasion...Own them.
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