Yesterday I went grocery shopping. When I was serving DOB his dinner he looked in horror at one of my purchases. "You brought Heinz ketchup?" he said, "Don't you know that's like giving a donation to John Kerry?"
Alas, I don't usually think about politics in the seasonings aisle. (Difficult though that is to believe.)
But this makes me ponder how unpleasant it must be to be a tycoon. It doesn't matter what one's name was before, or how intrinsically dignified it is, ever afterwards it is associated with ketchup or tires or chocolate bars or whatever it was you got filthy rich selling. Of course, if one's name was something like "Burpee" in the first place, one might as well get rich selling cucumber seeds as not.