Prose Poem: James R. Hagerty is called Bob.

Why is James R. Hagerty called Bob?

I never understood the reason for that,

ever since I started reading him 

forty years ago. 

He doesn't write like a Bob.

He doesn't look like a Bob.

Hell, he doesn't even talk like a Bob.

And I should know --

because I have been investigating

him for the past ten years.

And that includes listening to him

on radio and TV. Taking notes.

James R. Hagerty, I have concluded,

is a Fred.

Talks the Fred talk. Walks the Fred walk.

And has the Fred look.

If you look closely at the neckties

he wears, you will notice a small

embroidered "F" on every single one.

Oh, I know he'll deny it up and down.

He'll show you affidavits testifying

to his being known as Bob 

everywhere from Brussels to Hong Kong.

His library card from the

Chagrin Falls Public Library 

lists him as James R. (Bob) Hagerty.

But in his heart he knows he's Fred.

Because inside every Bob there is a 

Fred yearning to get out.

And because he has often stated

that his favorite Red Skelton character

has always been . . . 

Freddy the Freeloader.