Now, this is the truth.

Back in the Haight-Asbury days, hippies gave their kids names such as “Sunday Blueberries” (true; I knew the kid). When their little tots hit school age, though, the parents went up-scale, moving to Santa Cruz and such where they had things like, you know, schools.

For the first day of school, parents were told to hand a card around each youngster’s neck, with their name on one side and their school bus stop on the other. Thus adorned, some strange names marched into school, including “Fruitstand.” All morning long the other kids tried to be friends, saying “Fruitstand, help us here,” or “Fruitstand, join us in this,” but Fruitstand was silent. Even the teacher couldn’t draw him out.

Finally, it was time for the buses, so the teacher flipped over Fruitstand’s card to learn his bus stop

On the other side, it read, “Anthony.”