The ups and downs of being a celebrity namesake

“Only,” she replied, “if you have another child.”

Thus did a new Herbert Hoover come into the world in 1968, unintentionally honouring the US president who ushered in the Great Depression in 1929.

Herbert Hoover, now 41, is an artist who lives in New York and makes pewter saltine cracker sculptures (yes, you read that right) that are sold in art galleries and shops across the US.

So what were you expecting? Him to become a politician, at the very least? I’ve got news for you: after interviewing everyone from (not the ) Michael Jordan to (not the ) Michael Jackson – not to mention (not the ) Oprah, Kelly Clarkson, and a whole lot more – I learnt that very few would be mistaken for their famous namesakes. But somehow, they all feel connected to their celebrity counterparts, for better or worse (for Charles Manson, just worse). And if you happen to share a name, here’s a suggestion: be prepared for life to throw up anything.

PERKS OF FAME

Marcia Clark – the budding publicist, not the ex-prosecutor – moved to New York on the cusp of the O.J. Simpson trial, when her namesake in California was busy trying to convict the former American football star of a double murder. “I would get all these e-mails,” the 52-year-old arts consultant says. “ ‘Talk to the dog! The dog has all the information.’ ”

The only one who didn’t seem to be paying her any attention was her new boss – until the boss couldn’t get lunch reservations at a hot new restaurant. “Marcia,” she said, emerging from her office, “would you call and make a reservation for four in your name?”

One phone call later, there was a table reserved for one o’clock, that very day. Too bad her boss didn’t take Marcia along.

Hard-to-get reservations, upgrades, first-class tickets – a lot of people with famous names enjoy them all. Dallas salesman Carlos Santana got special treatment in first class because the flight attendant thought he was the musician’s son. (Surely not!)

The same thing happened to marketing consultant Winton Churchill. The airline didn’t seem to notice he’s missing an s in his first name. (He was named for a car, not the late British prime minister.) When Detroit property manager James Joyce visits any of the pubs worldwide that share his name, “it’s usually good for a few free beers.” (By the way, before becoming a property manager, this Joyce was a teacher – and even he didn’t make it all the way through Ulysses. “Nobody did.”)

Expecting similar hospitality, Californian John Hancock and his wife visited the Chicago skyscraper that bears his name. Arriving at the observatory, 94 floors up, he handed over his ID and asked with a twinkle in his eye, “Can I get in free?”

Answer: no.