"Mark Mandel" is a fairly common name -- maybe not in your world, but in mine. "Mandel" is German and Yiddish for 'almond'. And for reasons I cannot guess, around the year I was born my mother and a million other women seem to have congratulated themselves on their originality and named a million sons "Mark". In public situations, including the Internet, I use my middle initial ("Mark A. Mandel") to reduce the chances of confusion. Growing up in New York City, I crossed the trail of four other Mark Mandels, only one of whom turned out to be me.

When I first came to the Boston area, I got a phone call late one night from an old woman who started to tell me about her pains.

"Excuse me," I said, "I think you have the wrong person."
"Are you Mark Mandel?"
"Yes, but --"
"Doctor Mark Mandel?"
"My name is Mark Mandel, and I'm a doctor, but I'm not a medical doctor."
"Eh?"
"I'm not a physician. I'm not the person you're trying to reach."

I've gotten email from people seeking other Mark Mandels. I know there are a fair number of us out there. By ego-surfing and searching in machine-readable phone books I've found at least 20. I'm sure many of us are nice guys, even nicer than I am -- some of the email suggests so -- but I have no urge to get in touch with the others, except maybe to correct misdirected mail. I don't think we're related. If you're one of us, Hi! You're just as welcome to email me as anyone else.

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