April 22, 2025
By Nathaniel “Not That One” Prescott

So, once upon a time, I shared a name with the legendary John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.

Yes, that John Jacob.
The one from the song.
The one where “his name is my name too.”

It was all fun and games until I started going out in public. I couldn’t go anywhere—grocery store, DMV, dentist’s office—without someone hearing my name and breaking into song. And the worst part? They thought they were the first person to ever do it.

“Hey! Just like the song!”
“JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SCHMIDT!”
No thanks, Karen. I’m just here for toothpaste.

It wasn’t just annoying. It became a full-blown identity crisis. I’d get introduced at parties and people would light up like they’d just discovered a rare Pokémon. Meanwhile, I just wanted to blend in, maybe meet someone cute, and not have my entire personality hijacked by a children’s chant.

So I changed it. Dropped the whole thing and went with something simple. Something solid. Something you couldn’t shout in a chorus.

Nathan.

Now? No one sings. No one yells. No one even notices. I blend in so well I might as well be a houseplant.

Haven’t been on a date in seven months.
Still not sure if I won or lost.

But hey—at least no one’s singing anymore.