Dave Gorman. As a name, it's missing something. You wouldn't follow a Dave Gorman into battle, or perhaps even vote for a Dave Gorman if he were standing as an anti-water rates candidate in the local elections. It has all the drama, the presence and the dynastic ring of, say, a John Major.
But for people called Dave Gorman, it's rightly important. It's how they identify themselves; it defines them. Take away their Dave Gormans, and you're left with a group of highly confused people who might, if things turned nasty, constitute a danger to society.
For the comedian and writer Dave Gorman (23) - from Bow in London's East End, just to distinguish him from other Dave Gormans, which will shortly become relevant - his name is very important. Not only does it give him something to say when he first meets people, it is now his livelihood. Because this Dave Gorman makes a living from tracking down, meeting and photographing other Dave Gormans.
It's not an easy job, for Dave Gormans are a far-flung and eclectic bunch. There's Dave Gorman the assistant manager of East Fife football club. There's his son Dave Gorman, who is a constable, also in Fife. There's detective Dave Gorman from Georgia in the US. There's Dave Gorman who runs a bookshop in Tooting. There's Norwegian Dave Gorman, and south-of-France Dave Gorman.
The 34 Dave Gormans so far located have little in common, apart from their moniker. "There are a lot of pasty-faced people with red beards," says writer Dave Gorman, stroking his red beard, which sprouts from a face of Gorman-like paleness. "It's an Irish name - from Clare originally we think - so there are a lot of Irish genes out there."
Dave Gorman reckons his namesakes are universally happy and at ease with themselves. Being Dave Gorman is a lot easier than being John Malkovich, apparently. "Except for Evil Dave Gorman," says Danny Wallace, Dave's flatmate, mate and fellow Dave Gorman hunter. "He's the only one who refused to meet us."
Like many great enterprises (the 1916 Rising, Dana's presidential campaign and many of Bertie Ahern's policy initiatives, for instance), it began in a pub. The Trinity Bar in Harrow, to be exact. Dave was trying to convince Danny that the assistant manager of East Fife football club was called Dave Gorman too, but Danny was having none of it. It all developed into a Tequila-fuelled argument, and the rest, as they say, is a small, insignificant footnote to history.
Hunting down Dave Gormans is not as easy as it might first appear. It involves thumbing through phone directories, emailing and being prepared to travel long distances at short notice. So far the quest has taken them to Scotland a couple of times, to Norway, Italy and France. It's expensive too, but funding from the BBC to make a TV documentary of the quest has helped. By Monday, they had logged 34 Dave Gormans, and hope to have 100 by the time they leave Gormanland and head back to reality.
In a cunning bid to flush Dave Gormans from cover, Dave wrote a one-man comedy show, predictably entitled Are You Dave Gorman? It has just finished its run at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, where it was nominated for a Perrier Award and, more importantly, produced two audience members called Dave Gorman. The show has taken on a life of its own now and is transferring to the Comedy Theatre in London's West End. Its success, however, is important to Dave only insofar as it gives an opportunity to meet more Dave Gormans. This is a man on a mission.
Dave and Danny hope to meet several Dave Gormans during their stay in Dublin. If you are a Dave Gorman, you can contact them at Blooms Hotel, e-mail them at dave.gorman@virgin.net or meet them at 4 p.m. tomorrow at the record store at Crown Alley in Dublin's Temple Bar. If they're not at the hotel, they're probably in Gormanstown.
