Jasper, Jasper, Jasper, Jasper and Jasper.
A real Jasper and (inset) a pretend Jasper.
I've only met five other Jaspers (not counting black Labradors, who are called nothing else). It's a rare name so we don't often meet. The youngest and most female was a fourteen-year-old who came to a talk I gave in the States in 2003. There is a Jasper who works in Foyles bookshop, and a few others to whom I have passed a cheery Jasper-moment. but the best Jasper of all I met was in Madrid airport, quite by chance. Someone called out my name and a middle-aged man next to me looked up. I stared at him and we had one of those 'Are you a Jasper? I'm a Jasper.' moments and we did the 'yes, I used to hate it but now I like it / why are dogs all called Jasper?' sort of thing for a couple of minutes until we got round (as Jaspers always do) to talking about British comedian Jasper Carrott, whose real name I can reveal with a certain smugness, is Bob Davis.
'Yes,' said my new-found Jasper-friend, 'all we Jaspers have to suffer the carrott epithet because of him, but it's much worse for me.'
'How so?' says I.
'My name is Jasper Parrot,' he replies in a pained manner.
'Whoa!' says I, 'you got bowled a googly there.'
And we parted company best of friends, two Jaspers, passing on our travels. I later found out he was an influential TV producer, so I should have asked him for a job.
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