There’s a word in Brazil, xara, that refers to that loose affinity group of people who share your name. Now, if I had a name like “John Smith” or “Mary Jones,” this could be another blog entry about the joys and woes of my many xara, and perhaps a celebration of the xara club we founded through Facebook, and how we all met up in Miami for a weekend, and how we sometimes get each other’s bills, and how Google searches of our names are less informing because we have to pick through entries about the others.
But with a name like “Michael Erard,” you’re going to know all the people who share your name. And I know exactly two: my grandfather, who went by Michael R. Erard, and my father, who goes by Michael C. Erard. However, if you came here via Google, you might have seen that there’s a photographer who shares my name. And who apparently has no middle initial. Or like me, doesn’t use his. I don’t even know who he is, or if we’re related.
All this to say: I’m not that photographer.