When I got married, I insisted on keeping my maiden name. As a second middle name.
Since we live on the East Coast, my new last name is constantly slaughtered. So now both my first and last name are mispronounced on a weekly basis.
And given that we live on the outskirts of the most political city in the country, people are generally loud and proud about their political leanings. For instance, I went to the library to check out a book. When the librarian saw my last name she inquired if I often get asked if I’m related to the VP. I smiled. Then she said, “If I were you, I’d change my last name!”
Seriously? Who remembers Elbridge Gerry or Millard Fillmore? Yeah, they were Vice Presidents of the United States. I’m not going to change my last name because a democrat in the public library doesn’t like the VP; even if I didn’t like the guy I wouldn’t change it–it’s my NAME! I can almost guarantee that in 200 years, no one will remember who the VP was in 2007 without looking it up on the Internet. But it is a little strange that if you mispronounce my name, I’m the VP’s daughter. Weird.
P.S. Word around town is that the VP actually pronounces our shared last name correctly. It’s the media that has caused the pronunciation to go to pot.