A Charter Member of the Joan Collins Fan Club

Levon never liked is name. Being born to an Elton John enthusiast was not quite all it was seemingly cracked up to be. Still, he accepted his lot in life, occasionally self-medicating with reruns of Dynasty and coffee flavored Haagen-Dazs—his default brand of choice due to a childhood umlaut obsession.

Levon wondered what life might have been like as a Jeff or an Edgar, maybe a Mitch or a Brett. Okay, not a Brett. Would he have been a distinguished Richard or a charming Dashell? Perhaps he might have made a sexy Serge or an astutely intelligent Arthur, but Levon would never know.

What he did know was a life of being chastised for his name, endless taunts from other kids calling him “Left on” as if it was the funniest thing they’d ever said. So funny Levon forgot to laugh.

One absurdly sunny day in early July, Levon received a call from the office of Mr. James Pinkerton, Esq. Mr. Pinkerton was looking for someone by the name of Levon, someone who would be the beneficiary of a large estate from a distant relative in Topeka, Kansas.

“Yes, I’m Levon,” Levon said, recognizing the need for a direct answer.

“Levon, my boy, I can’t tell you how great it is to hear that,” Mr. Pinkerton replied.

And it was great to hear that. For once, Levon was happy to be a Levon. A Levon who was also a charter member of the Joan Collins fan club.