What's in a name?

Apparently, quite a bit if you're 10 or 8.
The word "Dick" came up in dinner conversation, which turned into a rip-snorting good time for B and T. Actually, it was almost soda-snorting-out-the nose good time for TJ, who almost lost it.

The "offending word" came up when the TV music station began playing Moby's "South Side."

"Cool, Moby," I said to anyone and no one.
"Isn't that a book?" No. 1 asked.
"You mean 'Moby Dick'?" I replied.

Laughs all around.
"You guys are laughing at 'Dick'?" I asked.
More snickers.
"You know," I said in my best "I remember-when-candy-cost-a-nickel-and-gas-was-under-a-buck" voice, "Dick is actually a nickname for Richard."
Crickets.
"You know, just like Jack is a nickname of John," I told them.
"Why wouldn't you just want to be called Rich?" No. 1 asked.
"Because not everything used to be dirty," I said. "You do know that gay really"
"Means happy," No. 2 interjected.
"Yes," I said.
"Still," No. 1 said, "I think I'd stick with Rich."
Indeed.