Believe it or not, KNSD-TV (Channel 39) anchorwoman Denise Yamada uses a phony name. She certainly looks like a Denise Yamada. Apparently it is impossible to trust anything anymore.
Her real name is Denise Kovacevic. She changed it early in her television career, when she was working in Portland, Ore., building a reputation as the reporter with the strange name.
"I got tired of people saying, 'Funny, you don't look Polish,' " said Yamada, whose heritage is Yugoslav and Japanese.
She chose to use the name of her grandmother, which made sense. Besides, "Greta Garbo" was already taken.
But if Yamada isn't really a Yamada, it raises the question of who else is living a white lie, putting out a false front, so to speak.
Certainly Jim Laslavic is a real name. Nobody would make up a name like that. However, Lena Nozizwe is an alias. The Channel 8 reporter's real name is Nozizwe Siwundhla, which is South African (Lena is her grandmother's name). Siwundhla means "bad crop of corn." Enough said.
Robert Dale Bergmayr became Bob Dale in 1947 for more practical reasons.
"It was a 7-inch screen and I had a 12-inch name," said the Channel 39 weatherman.
After years of having teachers "screw up" the pronunciation of his name, Rick Prywitch changed it at the suggestion of his first boss in television. He became Rick Powers, now a Sports Guy with KGTV (Channel 10).
Clearly, the Big Thinkers in television news don't think people will tune in to watch a lineup of Kovacevic, Siwundhla, Bergmayr and Prywitch. This reeks of ethnic prejudice. But these days ethnic is in, as stations work to portray themselves as equal opportunity employers.
Television people say complicated names are more of a distraction than a hindrance. People, the theory goes, are confused quite easily. A hard to pronounce name can detract from the story, which invokes images of people sitting at home scratching their heads and staring into space for 30 seconds because the reporter's name is multisyllabic.
More important, a tough name will make it harder for the public to remember the personality, and television people live to be memorable.
Of course, fake names are a time-honored tradition in radio. Although not as preponderant as in the good ol' days, when practically every disc jockey had an important-sounding name like Charlie Tuna, there are still quite a few aliases on the air, such as Clark Anthony, a.k.a. Clark Anthony Burlingame.
When contacted, several radio personalities didn't want their real names made public, perhaps in fear that legions of fans would soon be camping on their front lawns asking for money. Suffice to say that Anita Rush and Jack Diamond are not real names.
Diamond, the KSON morning guy and weekend weather guy for Channel 39, was christened with a new name when his employer, a Baltimore radio station, wanted to mold his name to fit a "Jack of Diamonds" advertising campaign.
"The name stuck, the job didn't," Diamond said.
KKLQ (Q106) disc jockey Rush chose her name because of its similarity to "I need a rush," although she emphasized that there is no drug connotation to it.
Some people probably should change their names, and there should be a rule that all fake names must reflect the person's personality. Channel 10 Sports Guys Larry Sacknoff could become Larry Whitebread. Channel 8 weatherman Larry Mendte could be Larry (Pat) Sajak. (Apparently there \o7 is \f7 a rule stating that personalities named Larry can't change their names.)
Or maybe there should be generic names at each station. When Stan Miller leaves Channel 8, another Stan Miller would take his place.
Yamada probably made the right decision. Her new name suits her more than her given name, especially because she was recently married. Her new full name is actually Denise Kovacevic Liuzzi.
Funny, she doesn't look Italian.
Channel 10's Adrienne Alpert and Channel 39's Susan Farrell teamed up Wednesday to get the rarest of sound bites, a face-to-face, spontaneous ambush interview with former President Ronald Reagan, the master of forcing reporters to shout questions from 20 feet away.
In attempting to chase down the ex-President, the rivals agreed to work together and swap tapes. With Alpert stationing her camera inside the hotel where Reagan was giving a rah-rah speech for gubernatorial candidate Pete Wilson, Farrell positioned herself at a rear door, through which, they learned, Reagan would exit. Sure enough, when Reagan emerged Farrell was there to ask the question she and Alpert had agreed upon about Wilson's liberal leanings.
Of course, Reagan gave a 30-second response which had nothing to do with the question, and both channels 10 and 39 used abbreviated versions. But the reporters could take satisfaction in accomplishing what the White House press corps spent eight years attempting, usually in vain.
