I, Troy Hickman, Will Hereafter Stop Doing Stuff!

So the other day I check my AOL mail to find a message that says "Troy Hickman has sent you a letter on Myspace."

Wha---? Oh, I figure, probably some new phishing scam or somesuch. So just to be sure, I log on to my MySpace page to find...a letter from Troy Hickman.

Specifically, it's a letter entitled "My Name is also Troy Hickman," and it said this:

"i would appreciate it if you quit doing stuff when i tell girls about me they google MY name and get you which is weird so stop it or add a side note that your not the TROY HICKMAN"

As it turns out, this was sent by a young man in Oklahoma who has found that being Troy Hickman is not the beer and skittles he imagined it being.

So what am I to do? Should I simply stop "doing stuff"? I mean, I'm practically a sloth now; I'm not sure I can become even more lethargic. Maybe I could stop doing things for an hour or two a day, just enough time for young Mr. Hickman to score with some chicks?

More importantly, how does one become "the TROY HICKMAN," and how did I miss out on that honor? Was it a problem with the paperwork? It wouldn't be the first time bureaucracy has bitten me on the ass.

If you google my name (at least, I THINK it's my name), you'll get something like 74,000 hits. As best I can tell, probably 90% of them have to do with me. Or at least, the ME that writes comics, teaches college English, and is typing these words now.

Doesn't that, by sheer weight of numbers, if not by the sheer weight of my buttocks, make me THE Troy Hickman? Or is it an honorary appointment of some kind? Does this nation now have a "Troy Hickman czar"???

Well, anyway, the least I can do for this poor kid is to point out to all you young ladies who are pondering whether to favor him with your charms that I AM NOT HIM! I'm sure he's everything I'm not (which would mean he's a water-breathing albino lesbian, but I digress), so give the guy a booty call and keep him off MySpace, will ya?

While I'm at it, here are a handful of other people I'm not:

I'm NOT this Troy Hickman. I've mentioned him before. He's the former mayor of Hayes, Kansas, and I think now he's on their city council (they demoted you, did they, Troy?). He looks like a straight shooter. Chances are HE would deny that he's me, too.

I'm NOT the Troy Hickman that also lives here in Lafayette. He's no relation to me, but I met him one time out at the Putt Putt course where my son worked. It turns out THAT Troy Hickman is a miniature golfing whiz (I could never do that, as the odds of me not snickering when someone mentioned "balls" and "stroke" in the same sentence are slim and none). The golfing Troy seemed like a decent enough guy. I get his phone calls sometimes, and I like to think he's gotten my offers from major comic book companies.

I'm NOT the Troy Hickman that used to be the first entry you got when you googled the name. THAT Troy Hickman was a convict, also here in Indiana, in Terre Haute, looking for gay cybersex. You can imagine how glad I was when he ceased being Troy Hickman numero uno on the internet. I always wondered about that guy, though. What the hell was his deal? I'd like to think all us Troy Hickmans are winners, but criminy, what kind of a guy has to go online looking for gay sex when HE'S IN PRISON??? Talk about coals to Newcastle...

I'm NOT Tracy Hickman. The fact that we're both writers and we both work in the fantasy field occasionally confuses people. The fact is that Tracy Hickman makes more money in a month than I've made in my entire life, and that includes the year I picked up extra cash from selling my blood plasma. I don't know Margaret Weis, I've never worked with Margaret Weis, and frankly, if I ever even tried to get Margaret Weis' autograph at a signing, I'm pretty sure she'd have the security guards treat me like a king...Rodney King.

I'm NOT much more famous and successful comic writer Jonathan Hickman. He seems like a very nice guy, and he's got more talent than everyone David Hasselhoff has ever judged COMBINED, but we're no kin. I kind of feel like a professional wrestling jobber having a match with Ric Flair when people mention us in the same breath, though; it can only give ME a positive rub, while it doesn't do a damned thing for him. Maybe I should get him a fruit basket to make up for it.

I'm NOT talented comic artist Jessica Hickman. Frankly, I cannot draw a purty pitcher to save my life (well, maybe to save my life...I mean...geez!). I've tried to draw since I was a little kid, but there's just something in my brain that doesn't click. I can design a pretty spiffy superhero costume, and I think I have a good sense of how a comic page should look IN MY HEAD, but when it comes to making my hand move in such a way that it creates something resembling realism, it's never gonna happen. I will NOT show you any of my artwork here.

I am NOT singer/songwriter/philanthropist Sara Hickman. I've got a decent singing voice, but most every song I've ever written is a parody, and as far as doing good works, the last charitable act I committed was not printing any of my artwork here, as mentioned in the paragraph above.

I am NOT TV's Dobie Gillis, Dwayne Hickman. I have read his autobiography, though, and it was a page-turner.

I am NOT Gene Hackman. The only French connection I've ever been a part of was when I nearly beat to death a street mime named "Pierre."

Anyway, Troy Hickman of Oklahoma, I hope this helps you get laid. If not, there's a guy in prison in Terre Haute who might be able to help you out...

(A big thanks to Veazey for the idea)