By Alex Casey

Copyright thespinoff

Alex Casey unearths the meaning behind some of the most mystifying monikers set to appear on voting forms this election season.

When one combs through the entire list of local body election candidates, as many of us here at The Spinoff like to do before bed every night, fascinating trends and thrilling oddities start to reveal themselves. As we’ve already covered, there’s the abundance of men called John, Mike and David, a plethora of reality television stars and screen queens, and even the occasional 18th century vampire. But as you make your way down the country, cosy brackets and proud quote marks contain another curious phenomenon: the nickname.

At first, they start off as you might expect. You’ll find the odd “Kaz” or “Caz” next to your Karens, “Baza” nestled next to your Barrys, and “Bex” beside your Rebeccas. So far, so functional. Martin Bosley running in Greytown is also known as “Boz”, Rizwaana Latiff in Hastings rocks the “Riz” and Teenica Harrex in Oamaru also goes by “Teeni”. All of these nicknames boast a clear lineage and logic. The same cannot be said for candidates such as “Roasty” in Ashburton, “Rabbit” in Ruaphehu, “Soddy” in Dunedin, “Squirt” in Stewart Island, or “Big Daddy” in Invercargill.

Before we unearth the meaning of some of these mystifying monikers, we must consider the rules about running with a nickname. According to the Local Electoral Act 2001, if you are registering with any names that deviate from your legal name, you may have to show evidence that you have been “commonly known” by the name for at least six months before nomination day. That name must also not “cause offence to a reasonable person” be “unreasonably long”, resemble an “official title or rank” or “cause confusion or mislead” voters.

Celine “Bubbles” Gregory-Hunt, a councillor seeking re-election in the Chatham Islands, got her nickname as a baby. “Apparently I used to blow bubbles a lot, and the rest is history,” she said. “Everyone only knows me as Bubbles, so I have to put my nickname alongside my real name.” Invercargill Licensing Trust board member Graham “Hawksy” Hawkes, who’s running for another term, also has family to thank. “My dad was Chick Hawkes. My older brother was nicknamed Hawkey… I was nicknamed Hawksy, my younger brother was nicknamed Chicky.”

Other candidates were branded during their awkward teenage years. Running in Gore, Robert “Caveman” McKenzie got his nickname at St Peter’s College. “I was very shy and it had something to do with my growing interest in girls and my approach to asking them out,” he said. “I’ve had the nickname for over 50 years – I didn’t like it at the start but it grew on me.” Mark “Roasty” Douglas got his alias 35 years ago at the age of 15, after accidentally eating a roast leg of lamb from the fridge at a friend’s house that was supposed to be for lunches.

“It’s my phone number, it’s my licence plate, can’t escape it now,” he said.

Some candidates have seen their nicknames bloom from their professions. Timaru District Council candidate Stu “aka Photo” Jackson has been a professional photographer for over three decades, and was seeking a point of difference from his namesake candidates Stu Piddington and Owen Jackson. Looking to secure a fifth term on the Ruapehu Council, David “Rabbit” Nottage said his name was “not because of the carrots here in Ohakune” but emerged when he joined a trucking firm that “already had a Bear, Monkey, Dog and a Possum”.

Captivating nicknames all, but none intrigued quite like Kane “Big Daddy” Johnson. Running for the Invercargill Licensing Trust, Johnson explained he has been better known as “Big Daddy” since his DJ days in the late 90s. “Big Daddy Kane was pretty popular at the time, and there was the boxer Big Daddy Riddick Bowe,” he said. “I didn’t know if I liked the name at the start, but it just grew and became a persona.” For his 21st birthday he got the numberplate BGDADDY along with personalised rugby jerseys and underwear.

Despite being known as Big Daddy for decades, running with the nickname was still not an easy decision to make. “Because it is a funny name, it was a concern that I was [not] going to be perceived as being professional enough, or having enough credibility, or that Invercargill wasn’t ready to see it on a billboard,” he said. But after a warm reception at the ILT AGM this week, with many greeting him as Big Daddy, Johnson has made peace with the decision. “It proved to me that you can be personable and have a kind heart, but still know the business,” he said.

Running with a candidate nickname also has the benefit of potentially reaching people who otherwise wouldn’t be engaged with local body elections at all. “For some voters, it’s going to break down those barriers just by changing the landscape a little bit,” said Johnson. “Because so many people just aren’t interested.” On the flipside, if you are someone considering local body politics and you have an unusual nickname, Big Daddy has some career advice for you. “If you’ve been blessed with one, be brave and embrace it,” he said.

“You just don’t know where it’s going to take you.”