In the self-referential realm of the Internet, where I frequently use Google to search for wisdom on a subject and find something I’ve written myself, it makes perfect sense for me, Brian Hines, to blog about the other Brian Hines’ of the world.
Who, of course, I’ve learned about through Google. I skipped through the first eight entries that popped up on my “Brian Hines” search. For even though they pointed to some fascinating information about a brilliant namesake, that person clearly was me, and my quest was for not-me’s.
Which brings us to Denny Laine, who created the Moody Blues rock band in 1964 after inexplicably deciding to change his name and become an “a.k.a. Brian Hines.” For this shameful act I considered leaving him off of this tribute. However, since Laine is by all rights the most famous Brian Hines in the world, and starts off his bio with the honest words “Born Brian Hines…,” I am pleased to begin our tour of BH’s with a distinguished musician.
Our next stop is on the darker side of Brian Hinesland. For now we meet a 20 year old Red Cross volunteer, naturally named Brian Hines, who was charged with stealing almost a quarter-million dollars in debit cards intended for Hurricane Katrina victims. Not the way to get admitted to the Brian Hines Hall of Fame, Brian! Especially since your criminal exploits got so much publicity they run the risk of downgrading the Google ranking of legitimately notorious BH’s like, to pick a name out of the hat, me.
Sadly, we haven’t reached the bottom of the rotten Brian Hines barrel. Mention must be made of one Brian Hines, 26, who robbed the Waffle House in Lakeland, Tennessee. Bad enough, Brian, but to get caught through your face appearing on a security camera, that’s worse. If Brian Hines’ become criminals, for the sake of our noble name I plead with you: wear a disguise, guys!
Returning to positivehinesness, kudos to Brian Hines, actor, whose listed credits on a talent agency web site include a role in “Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles.” Hmmmmm. From our last two entries, there seems to be some sort of karmic connection between Brian Hines’ and waffles. To add to the eeriness, I’ve got a box of Van’s Organic Blueberry Waffles in my freezer (cue in Twilight Zone music, now).
Also in the creative/weird BH genre falls Brian Hines, Spite Magazine writer (at least, I think it is a magazine—hard to tell). The Spite website prominently features a “Win a Date with Brian Hines” offer. Judging from Brian’s photo your chances to win were excellent given the small number of entries that would be expected, though I’m not crazy enough to place bets on what turns women on.
Music seems to. So disc jockey Brian Hines probably is rolling in chick attention, notwithstanding his CPA-like appearance. Less successful in business was the United Kingdom Brian Hines whose “Brian Hines Chauffer Services Ltd” company is now listed as dissolved. Sorry, Brian, but even though a lot of people spell it your way, I really think you would have been better off with chauffeur, if only to have a better chance at nabbing the French tourist and picky speller markets.
We are nearing the end of our Brian Hines’ of the World tour, and it is fitting to close with a salute to the bread earners who may lack the flashiness of a rock musician, thief, or writer, but anchor our name in solid professional earth.
So sing out a hardy “Hines are fines!” to the hiring of Brian Hines as the national sales manager of Cellarator, a feed additive that, I’m confident, adds a lot to feed. And to Brian Hines, sales associate for Ameri/Star Real Estate in Sioux Falls, South Dakota (who, I’m sure, wishes he didn’t have to put a hyphen in his “brian-hines.com” email address, but must, since I, Brian Hines of Salem, Oregon am the proud possessor of the truly prestigious “brianhines.com”—which, I hasten to add, is always available for sale to any other Brian Hines who delivers a Mini-Cooper S to my driveway).
My apologies to all of the worthy, and unworthy, Brian Hines’ who I was unable to include in this compendium. Your story awaits another day when I have too much time on my hands.
Of all that might be said about my journey into the wonderful world of Brian Hines’ today, here is the strangest thing: my father was adopted. Yes, his parents were Polish speaking Germans who came to this country in the early 1900s to work on the railroads. His mother died in childbirth and his father took off, leaving him in the hands of some Hines’ from Boston.
I only spent one hour with my father in my life. He told me that, after diligent research, he learned that his birth parents’ last name was Müller. Thus in an alternative future my name would have been Brian Müller.
Go figure. What’s in a name, anyway?