I was almost meant for greatness.
My birth name was supposed to be Anthony Ray Vacante.
Say that in your head a couple times. Anthony Ray—Sounds pretty nice, right? Some movie-star type shit.
For reasons unexplained, my parents settled on Anthony Perry.
Just like that, I went from having the name of an actor, a writer—perhaps a radio personality on a bad day—to a guy who makes his animal crackers fight before he eats them.
Growing up, I realized I could still make the “being a writer” thing work, despite this severe handicap.
Call me Tony.
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An AI artist’s rendering of Anthony Ray