In a rather morbid sense of community connection, I like to read obituaries in The Washington Post. I grew up here and have lived here all my life so it’s likely I’ll see that someone I know or a family member of someone I know has passed on. The obits are my version of a society column except the parties generally aren’t as festive. (The Irish notwithstanding.)
Today’s obits didn’t feature any names I recognized. However let me express my condolences to the family of Frederick Paul “Part Time” Dyson, age 58, of Washington, who died last week. Part Time is survived by three children and an ex-wife. I can’t explain why the ex-wife is listed as survivor. Part Time must have believed in Jesus because his funeral service is being held at Union Temple Baptist Church. Part Time died too young and I’m guessing that he was a great guy and his children (and perhaps his former wife) will miss him. But permit me to ask the obvious question—how did someone who was named Frederick Paul at birth ever get the name Part Time?
Does this imply that Mr. Dyson was himself only on random occasions? I can relate because there are times when I don’t want to be myself and would be pleased to assume another identity. Does it imply that he only worked part time? I can totally relate to something less than full-time employment, especially since it has been five years since I worked full time and over a year since I worked any time at all. (Sigh.)
I figure Part Time must have been well loved by his friends and he probably was the life of the party. How else could he have been honored by such a great nickname? Now I wanna be Part Time too.