Hello. My name is Mark LaFlamme. If you'll examine the surname closely, it's easy to decipher. It means the Flame or the Fire. A proud and glorious name, to be sure. A title that implies conflagration -- a natural force of such might, it will never be conquered by a mere mortal.
Why then, did I grow up being called things like La Phlegm, La Fem, Flower and Flamer?
Because my friends were heartless goons, that's why. Wretches, all of them. They made fun of my heritage and deprived me of the right to earn a real nickname.
The people I grew up with somehow earned creative if vague monikers. We had a Bug, a Slim, a Monkey and a Goo. There was a Drip, a Fat, a Boomer and a Beef. There was Pounder, Mace and Moped Fred.

Me, I got nothing. I was La Phlegm or La Flambe. I learned to live with it.
I love nicknames. In the world of big city crime, there are people with names like Scarface, The Hammer, The Knife and the The Bull.
Just a one-word name. It's what your friends think of when they see you. It's a fast insight into your personality and your identity. Your parents decide what name is listed on your birth certificate. Your friends and enemies decide what you will be called where it counts.
There's no shortage of monikers in a scrappy city like Lewiston. When I read a police report, I always make sure to read the section that lists the suspect's AKA. This is what that person is called on street corners, on barstools or in jail cells. It's an title that somehow -- in a way that's obvious or obscure -- announces who they are and what they are about.
In recent years, I've written about a Mix, a Geo, a Drett and a Kool-Aid. There is a Smokey, a Stoney and a Snoop in the archives. I have no idea what any of those names mean.
For animal lovers, we have an O-Dog, a T-Dog, a Scooby and a Jack Rabbit wandering around. There's a Frito if you get hungry, a Yo-Yo if you get bored and a Little Country if you happen to be homesick.
For a while, Ant was in the news for suspected drug trafficking. He was no relation to Flea, I'm told. And Roach had nothing to do with either of them.

A few years ago, a man known as Bubba was accused of attacking a cop. He was convicted, sent to the joint and later filed a suit claiming abuse by guards. People remember the case but they don't remember they suspect's actual name. If I say Bubba, they slap their head in sudden recollection. Oh, yeah. That guy.

A man known as PC was shot a couple times outside a downtown store a few years back. He got wrapped up in a drug investigation and later went to the slammer for assaulting a fireman. I have no idea what PC stands for. All things considered, maybe it's simply short for "probable cause."
In our local lexicon of street names, we've had a Ketchy, a Keygee, a Monk and a Ma. There is a fellow named Fingers who is not a safe cracker. There is a Boo-Boo who is not to be confused with a different guy who goes by the name of Boo.
As the name game goes, Boo is my favorite of them all. In my spare time, I write horror fiction. Can you imagine what a name like Boo could do for my career? A tale of terror by Mark "Boo" LaFlamme.

But no. You can't just take over someone else's AKA. The real Boo was busted for peddling drugs some years ago and I doubt he wants to sell me his title. And it's sad because the good ones are going quick.
I spoke with a gang investigator recently to discuss the newest names on the street. He had a whole list of nicknames from his nights on patrol. And the new ones make the old ones sound tame. These days, police aren't dealing with Ants or Fleas. They're dealing with people named Lefty, Skull, Snake, Eagle and Taz.
There are people with mysterious street names like Five roaming free out there. There are guys with stout names like Tree and one known as Scotty Dog.

Pudgy and Peaches went down for dealing just a week ago. The Dipper was taken out by the feds soon after. Fearsome names, all of them.

But you know what? This whole collection of downtown nicknames was inspired by one of my bosses. A sharp-eyed guy who watches wire stories for interesting news.

His name is Pete. But around here, he's known as the Editor. The Editor.

Man, it doesn't get much scarier than that.

Mark LaFlamme is the Sun Journal crime reporter. Copyright ©2005 Lewiston Sun Journal.