OK, this is something I’ve wanted to complain about many times. Today’s the day. Finally. My rhetorical question is very simple: why the hell do so many people call me “Dough”?

Not out loud, mind you. Only once, in a Chicago courtroom long ago (don’t ask), can I recall somebody saying “dough” out loud. Dough Mao, actually, and I rather like the name; I can still hear that stern portly court clerk barking it out.

No, I’m talking about email, where people often address me as “Dough.” I just did a search, and at this very moment there are 46 such emails in my in-box. That’s quite a few, especially when you consider that I sometimes delete them without reading beyond the damn “h” when they start that way. (You think I’m non-responsive on email now, just try starting your emails with “Dough.”)

I thought at first it was an English-as-a-second-language thing, sort of like how everyone in France calls me Doog. (I like that, actually.) But there’s no pattern to this abuse. I have all kinds of people emailing “Dough,” from many countries, speakers of many languages, everyone from peons to upper management, including people with advanced degrees in everything under the sun. And it seems to be getting worse. I’ve even noticed people who had emailed me as “Doug” suddenly switch to “Dough,” as if somebody got to them and told them what to do. “It’s a little thing we like to do around here, keeps him humble you know.”

Microsoft takes a lot of pride in being an accepting, diverse, culturally sensitive place, so I sure hope this stuff only happens to us white males. Otherwise, we’re in big trouble the first time somebody not named Moohammed or Songjay files a lawsuit. Well, not “we” … I’ll take the other side and get even for this daily indignation, by golly. “Yes, your honor, it’s demeaning and makes me feel abused and worthless, but I just thought it was best to keep turning the other cheek. Maybe I’ve just brought this on myself by dressing like the Pillsbury Dougboy … I should probably stop wearing the chef’s hat.”

I better stop writing before I think of anything else that pisses me off this much. It’s time to delete 46 emails and call it a day.