Many years ago, I worked at a publishing house that had a consulting editor named Congdon. The young woman from HR who sometimes sat at the reception desk consistently called him Mr. Condom. She was completely oblivious to this, and it wasn't a joke on her part.
She'd call me and say, "Mr. Condom is here to see you." And I'd reply, "Oh, Mr. Congdon is here, is he?" And she'd say, "Yes, that's right, Mr. Condom is here."
I didn't have the heart to correct her.
UPDATE: Hmm. For the subject line of this post, I wanted to quote from the song "The Way We Were." I assumed the line was "misty watercolor memories." That is, like a watercolor painting. Judging by a Google search, most people think it's "misty water-colored memories," which means memories the color of water. That doesn't make much sense.
Barbra, I know you're a loyal reader, so please clarify.