Within a day of ditching plain old Dave and becoming Farquhar my life has already begun to change. I walk with a spring in my step, with a swagger even. I meet the gaze of strangers with a new-found confidence, unblinking and eye-to-eye. I stand unbowed, as tall as my 5ft 11ins will allow. I have found my voice, speaking out and speaking up.

I dressed this morning with more panache, adding flourishes and colour. Mustard socks, a lilac western-style 'kerchief tucked into the top pocket of my Crombie. A black felt pork pie hat, retrieved from the back of the wardrobe, dusted off and worn with the brim pulled low. I considered the pearl handled cane, but not quite yet. Keep some things back for later.

At lunchtime I visited a travel agent and bought an airline ticket to Dallas, Texas. On Saturday morning I shall fly with the sun seeking adventure on the highways and byeways of the wide open prairielands and beyond, into New Mexico and Arizona. Ideas will be my maps, the forward path will be my goal. I shall seek and hope to find. Dawn's light will begin my day and an illuminated motel sign will call its end. The miles will be many, the minutes will be slow. Those that I meet will soon become the past, as I move forever onward towards the horizon. And if my road should become blocked by mountain, lake or sea, I shall turn around right there and move off again with no backward glance or second thought. During all this time, those who cross my trail and ask how I should be called will be answered, 'Farquhar' and when I return I shall write my story here.

When I left the house this morning I was Dave. I've been Dave or David ever since my christening back in the monochrome days following the end of World War 2. Until today I'd never really questioned it. I mean, it's never caused me any trouble. Not like Clarence, or Seymour, Archibald, even Adrian.

No, Dave has proved to be pretty harmless. I was Dee Dee at college but I wasn't about to argue. Never been a great one for making waves when the alternative is calm waters. Since then it's reverted back to Dave. Until today that is.

As the gate in the privet hedge swung shut behind me I thought, that's it. No more Dave. But if not that, what? As I walked briskly up the hill towards the station, as I had for the past fourteen years, I knew that I would not make the return journey being known as Dave. Dave was dead. History.

That decided I didn't need to think twice about who I was to be. There was only one candidate. Today I knew that I felt like a Farquhar. Farquhar was to be my new name. My new handle. My new tag. My new moniker. My new me. My new life. Everything I was to do, say, think, would be as Farquhar and all that implies.

From now and evermore I was to be a proper little Farquhar.