Everyone has one or two, and sometimes they change. In my case I was born Joannes Nicolaus Lieb. When we moved to the States and my parents were married I became John Malecek. In the 60’s I was known as Bunko for my card shark ability. Because there were so many “John”s in my high school class I became Nick to a few and "Jim" by my locker partner. In Fiji I was "Jone" pronounced “Chonay”. And in NZ I became Malley.
I know two women who each changed their name to Alex. A third changed to her middle name because she felt her name was difficult to spell. I still call them by their original name.
In Fiji men change their surname to their father’s on special occasions such as their 21st, getting married or becoming a father.
An interesting fact I only learned recently is that there is no law that a child must have its parents’ surname. Just imagine the confusion if each child had a different surname.
Then there is the “Foreman Syndrome”. George named each of his sons “George”.
 At the pump:
$1.78/litre
$6.85/gal
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It took me seven years to do the A-Z MalleyGrams. In some cases I had to leave things out due to space restrictions. I also reckon I have accumulated a few more items during that time. So I bring you N 2.0
The orignal "N" has been updated read it
NEWSPAPERS -  One summer when I was 11 I typed up a neighborhood newspaper - no copy machines back then so I typed the four pages 6 times and drew the artwork and cartoons. I delivered real newspapers only once when the kid across the road couldn't do his route. His father paid me 50 cents. My kids delivered newspapers in Papakura and I think they made $3 each time. I loved the Minneapolis Sunday newspaper. Made coffee and spent hours reading through the massive 2” thick edition. Many pages of colored comics, but my favorite were all of the ad inserts. Cut out the items on sale that we wanted and then head out to those stores and stock up.
NERVES - You need a lot nerve to be a Twins or Warriors fan. I may have to give up supporting them as I am running out of normal nerves. My diabetes has brought on peripheral neuropathy for which I get B12 injections. My feet are cold and numb most of the time. The tingles (“needles and pins”) extend up to my knees. Once in awhile I get tingle-spots here and there in my back and once it affected my lips.
NURSES - We have six relatives (one an obstetrician) and four former pupils who chose the profession. Eight close friends do that for a living. Four more worked in schools and a couple are physiotherapists. Not sure if dental assistants are considered to be nurses. My favorite hospital nurse would be John, an Irish fellow, who had some good serious talks and many laughs with me the fours days I spent in bed after my prostatectomy. We have nurses 24/7 at the village but, so far, we have not had a need to use them.
NUNS -  I went to Sunday School for 9 years and had a few Nuns drill me on my catechism. The head Nun at St Peter’s in Richfield was purple faced Sister Aquin. She was extra special because she once served at Bechyn and knew my family and even taught my father way back. So she singled me out as a special case and worked on me to go to a Catholic high school. It would have been so easy to just stay in the public system and would have saved my parents a lot of money. I took the entrance exam, passed and decided to go there. Just an example of how one person can affect another person. Then there was “Nuns Day” at the Twins baseball game. 400 in one section all dressed in black (it was 1963) and not a penny between them. There was no chance of selling a hotdog to them. But a sight to behold. I always wondered how many of them understood the sport.
NEGROS - I know several hundred Fijians who are black Melanesians and many brown Polynesians, but I realized last year that I have only known a handful of people with African ancestry. There was one boy in my first grade class in Minneapolis. We moved to an all white suburb, so there weren't any in my schools. When I went to De La Salle high school there was only one colored boy in the school. There was a black cook at the Holiday Inn that was a friend of my mother. In my Peace Corps group of 80 there was only one Negro. 40 years in New Zealand and it is only a few.
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