I have a t-shirt from Jake’s BBQ in Virginia Beach, Va. The background on my phone is a picture that says, “No Jake Brakes.” My favorite John Wayne movie is Big Jake.
Whenever you see your name somewhere, whether it’s on a billboard, or a coffee cup, or the name of a menu-item, it’s usually pretty awesome. You say to yourself, “Hey! That’s my name! How cool!”
Unless your name is part of a stupid TV commercial that’s been burned into the brains of the entire country.
I think I speak for all Jake’s when I say this: State Farm PLEASE roll out a new ad campaign.
Because more often than not, when I introduce myself to people, their first response is, “Ohh like Jake from State Farm?”
No. Like Jake Berent. The guy standing right in front of you, who’s hand you’re still shaking.
Since I’m a TV News Reporter, I meet new people every day. And 80% of people I meet make a reference in one way or another to those godforsaken commercials. Even my coworkers jokingly refer to me as Jake from State Farm.
I don’t want to say that the commercial has ruined my life, but it’s caused me the most minor of annoyances since the ad first aired in 2011.
I’ve sworn off khakis. I’ve switched to Progressive. I now introduce myself as Jacob.
Now I know stuff like this has happened before. Like when Tommy Tutone came out with “Jenny (867-5309)”, and the phone of every little old lady from Pasadena to Pittsburgh rang off the hook with teenagers calling and wondering where Jenny was.
Or when Budweiser came rolled out their “Wassssssuuuuuup?” commercials. And everybody from 3rd graders to your grandmother was using the phrase as their new default greeting.
But this was different. This was personal. This was MY name.
I’ve voiced my displeasure to State Farm, via Twitter, and they suggested I embrace it, rather than fight it.
Usually that’s the route I take. To go with the flow, and roll with the changes. But here I have to make a stand. This is who I am. It’s my name, and now anytime anyone hears it, their first thought that comes to their mind is a putz in khakis peddling car insurance.
I guess maybe I’m a little more attached to my name than most.
Given my name on a chilly Super Bowl Sunday in 1990, it would be nine years before the name Jake would spend fourteen straight years at the top of the most popular names list. My father named me after a man who never even went by his given first name, White Sox Hall of Fame second-baseman (and his personal favorite player) Nellie Fox. His given name was Jacob Nelson Fox, but everyone called him Nellie. My father decided against naming me Nelson, as to spare me from potential beatings.
I was the only Jake in the neighborhood. I had a monopoly on the name. I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to be a Joe, or a Dan, or a Mike. Having someone say your name and not be talking to you. Most of the Joe’s I know go by their last name. Nearly every Mike has his last name attached to distinguish one from the other. And the Dan’s usually have another nickname altogether.
I was Jake. THE Jake.
Sure there’s been other Jake’s before. Jake Taylor, the grizzled-old catcher for the Cleveland Indians in the movie Major League. “The Jake”, the nickname for the former Jacob’s Field in Cleveland. Even the semi-popular ska band Less Than Jake. Famous wrestler Jake “the Snake” Roberts. Actor Jake Gyllenhall. I’d be much happier being compared to any of those nouns, than some dopey insurance agent who’s only two known words are, “Uhhhh, khakis?”
I know, I know. I’m making a much bigger deal out of this than I should be. I should be happy for any name recognition, than none at all. It probably helps people remember me more that they can make that connection.
But I guess it could be worse.
I’m sure the family of actor John Wayne wishes a certain serial killer named Gacy had a different middle name. Adophus Busch will likely be the last prominent man with that first name. And it’s gotta be pretty tough for any Middle Eastern Child named Saddam while the dictator was still in power in Iraq.
And I guess every now and then, names get inextricably linked to pop culture. Like a girl named Layla, associated to the Derek & the Dominoes song of the same name. A boy named Dwight, who constantly hears references to The Office character. A little girl named Carrie, who unfortunately reminds people of the supernatural horror novel by Stephen King, and its subsequent movie. Or a family with the last name Kramer, where everyone asks which one of your kids is named Cosmo?
I’ve always liked my name. The State Farm commercial has done nothing to change that. But now I realize something…
I need to think of better comebacks for smart-Alec’s who call me Jake from State Farm.
Jake Berent 
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