The time I met the man who inspired my naming, and laughed a lot.

So every once in awhile, I get out of the house. Less often still, I write about it. Friday night was one of those nights.

While I lived in Taiwan, America’s banking market turned on its head. More like fell on its head. When I came back, all of those Washington Mutuals, with their cute commercials about their Bank Teller action-figures, disappeared. In their place, “CHASE.”

Yep. My name. Everywhere.

The first month I was back, it seemed near constant that someone asked “Is it weird seeing your name everywhere?” To be honest, most of the time, I don’t notice it. It’s not my name. It’s just a word. That happens to spell out exactly the same as my name. But it’s not me.

Despite the fact that one of my best friends is also named Chase, my name was fairly uncommon as I was growing up. So, often I heard, “I’ve never seen that name before; how did your mom choose it?”

The truth is, she saw the name somewhere and fell in love with it. The other truth is, a dear friend and spiritual mentor of hers has my name as his last.

Now residing in Branson, Missouri, Jason Chase is a comedian and performer whose musicianship outshines most who take the stage. For as long as my mom has known him, he’s performed for audiences near-nightly, wowing them every time he hits the stage. Soon after I was born, however, he relocated from Southern California to take the stage in Las Vegas.

As dear as he was to our family, mama wouldn’t take her young son to Sin City (and she definitely wouldn’t take him to Branson Missouri, either), so needlesstosay, I’ve never seen Jason perform. After twenty-some-odd years of hearing stories about him (and even watching a VHS tape for weeks on end) I finally was able to meet the man who helped inspire my naming.

At a harbor-side restaurant lounge-bar, I spent the evening listening to Jason croon his way through musical decades, covering from the 40s to the 70s – and even topped it off with a little Mr. Mraz to keep up with the times. The highlights, though, included stunning Elvis covers, energetic Chuck Berry & Jerry Lee Lewis, and every tune my grandma grew up listening to (she told me, she was there that night).

He even performed an original! “Communication” an ode to Social Media. Any song that ends with “Baby, I don’t give a Tweet” is bound to get my attention. When Jason asked how many in the audience use Twitter, I was among the 2-5% of the crowd that raised our hands.

One bit that I remembered from the years of watching the VHS was Jason’s infamous Fats Domino impersonation. It’s not enough to simply sing Domino’s piano ballad “Blueberry Hill” and nail his gravelly vocals; Jason has to get the right look, too. And they don’t call him “Fats” for nothing. As the song progressed, Chase (made me proud to share his name here) began to fill the inside of his cheeks with paper napkins. 10. 11. 12. 20… by the end of the song, he must have found room for 30 or more, as audience members – many who couldn’t decided if they were repulse or captivated by the act – tipped his jar to see more napkins go in. Let’s just say my jr high summer camp “Chubby Bunny” competition had nothing on Jason’s Fats Domino impersonation. Near around napkin-25, I approached the stage with a dollar bill in one hand, cell phone camera in the other. “For Twitter!” I said, as he held the pose.

After the show, I was able to spend time getting to know Jason and his wife. They both proved to be some of the most warm and personable people I’ve ever met. The whole evening, start to end, was a blast. I was proud to finally meet the man who helped inspire my naming — and I thoroughly enjoy the live performance I grew up hearing about. And it’s a good thing, too: I’d hate to have to tell people I was named after a bank.

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In Orange County? Want to see Jason Chase’s show for yourself? Jason is returning to Harpoon Henry’s in Dana Point on February 26th & 27th. I’m bound to be there. Leave a comment on which date you’d prefer. Let’s plan a #TweetUp!