I TOOK MYSELF ON A LITTLE FACT FINDING MISSION the other day. It was inspired by seeing a picture of the actress Tuesday Weld. Most men my age remember her from the TV show, “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis.” She played the gorgeous blonde Thalia Menninger. After she left the show nobody cared about it any longer.
My research topic had little to do with the lovely Thalia, but more to do with Tuesday – and Wednesday and Thursday, etc.
PEOPLE COME AND PEOPLE GO. Over the course of a lifetime how many people drift through our consciousness to be seen, meet, stay for a moment, and then disappear back into the fog.
I was thinking about that last night. I saw someone on TV who had the same name as a person I knew briefly some forty years ago. It was not the same person. It could have been a relative I suppose, but just that momentary memory bump had me thinking about both of the people who shared that name.
I DID MY CIVIC DUTY TODAY. I VOTED without going stark raving mad and trashing the joint.
My wife, the lovely and civic minded, Dawn, and I did what they call “Early Voting,” which is like going out to dinner and eating in the kitchen before the restaurant is really open.
Given the state of local politics here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “Call the prison and see what’s for lunch.”) there is no assurance that the winning candidate won’t be in jail on Election Day. I think that the ballot should list Names, Party Affiliation, and the number of indictments each person is under. It’s just a suggestion.
I DON’T MIND IT WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME QUESTIONS. I don’t even mind tough questions – not at all. But what constitutes a tough question often depends on the time of day.
You can ask me for the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything after lunch and I can give you the answer (42). However, if you ask me that before my first coffee of the day and I’d be stumped. Actually, almost any question before coffee is likely to be answered with nothing more than a grunt.
This morning that is what happened to me.
Throwback Thursday from September 2015
I WAS JUST LOOKING AT THE LIST of the most popular names for newborn babies in 2014. For 2015 I assume we won’t know for a while what names will make the Top Ten.
When I first saw the list of girl’s names I was struck by how “traditional” and even 19th century many of them seemed.
Sophia? Emma? Emily?
I guess the trend of recent years for “new” names or names that had a more nontraditional flair has waned at last.
I know of two families that have daughters named “Brooklyn.” Personally, I would no sooner name my child Brooklyn than I would name her East St. Louis or Beaver Falls (The town where I grew up).
Names like Sophia, Emma and Emily carry elegance about with them. They conjure up a gentler, and more polite, time. When I hear Brooklyn I think of black and while newsreel footage of crowded streets and Ebbet’s Field – Home of the Brooklyn Dodgers. I can almost smell the cigar smoke and perspiration. (I’m gonna hear about this – I just know it.)
Here is the complete Top Ten List of Girl’s Names for 2014, courtesy of BabyCenter.com.
There’s not a Brooklyn or an East St. Louis among them.
I recall that a few years ago the name “Madison” was a very popular choice for both boys and girls. There are a number of names that do double duty, but the only reason this sticks out in my memory is that once, during an interview with some sportscaster, Giants’ Pitcher Madison Bumgarner mentioned that he once had a date with a girl who was also named Madison Bumgarner. He claimed that they were not related, but he grew up in a small town in North Carolina. I’m just saying…
Doubling up on both names just raises eyebrows and visions of children running around with extra thumbs.
All of these girl’s names are incredibly better than what Inventor and Aircraft Designer, Bill Lear (The Lear Jet) did to his daughter. He saddled his baby girl with the first name of “Shanda.”
10 Most Popular boy’s Names for 2014
The one thing that leaps out at me about this list of boy’s names is that several of them are, what I would consider to be, last names or family names.
Nos. 1, 4, 6, and 10 are not first names.
Take no. 1 for example.
Let’s assume, for the sake of discussion, that little Jackson’s last name is “Thomas.” Years from now he will be asked to fill out some forms for a job or for some government program and they will ask that he do so “Last name first.” He will dutifully fill in the blanks with “Thomas, Jackson.”
I freaking guarantee that the clerk who is processing his paperwork will see that and think that Jackson is an illiterate fool and trashcan his application. He will not get the job, become disheartened, fall in with a bad crowd, and descend into a life of crime and despair. All because his parents got cute with his name.
Numbers 4, 6, and 10 – I’m sorry to say, but you’re screwed.
And number 8 – “Caden?” That’s not a name. It sounds like a dental term. “I’m sorry; Jackson, but you have a bad case of Caden. It’s going to be painful and expensive.”
Of course, as was the case with the girl’s names – it could be worse.
I do know of a young boy here in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “My first name is Pierre.”) who has the legal first name of “Buckshot.”
Is that a crime statistic in the making, or what? Why not just name the kid, “The Defendant.”
I do believe that parents should be able to name their kids as they like, but if you’re going to give your child a stupid name, I think that the clerk authorizing birth certificates should be legally empowered to take Daddy and Mommy out back and slap them silly upside the head.
THE OTHER DAY AN ACQUAINTANCE OF MINE moseyed up to me and asked me about the license plate on my car. What is on the car is called a “Vanity Plate” – a customized message for which I pay extra every year.
The plate on the Toyota reads: “KRAFTY.”
My acquaintance asked me what that meant, or to quote him – “What’s that all about?” If we had actually been friends he would have already known.
I explained to him that KRAFTY has been my nickname since childhood. It was a rational play off of my last name. Duh! He then asked me if I had any other nicknames. I didn’t know what he was fishing for, but I played along.
MY LINGUISTIC SKILLS ARE FALLING OUT OF DATE. New words are popping up all of the time and I am just not keeping current. Zounds!
This morning when I crawled down to St. Arbucks for my daily transfusion I ran headlong into a newish word that I have been seeing but not bothering to learn or adopt.
My Barista was wearing a new name tag that read, “I’m your BAE.”
BAE?
I DROVE PAST MY NEIGHBORHOOD TACO BELL yesterday. I was glad to see that they are continuing to value their staff by naming another “Employee of the Month.” This month’s winner of the coveted “Golden Taco” is named “Ant.” That’s it. Just “Ant.” I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that “Ant” is a nickname.
“Ant,” Not “An Ant.” Thank Heavens; I’d hate to think that one of the ways to work there and be named “Employee of the Month” would be to have six legs. Although during a busy time at the restaurant that could be an asset.
Our Congratulations go out to Ant.
Fiction Saturday
Chapter Thirty-Four
In the darkroom at Ernesto Molina’s photography studio a new person was being born. Years of experience in creating false documents for many of the Earth’s most dangerous people had made Molina a very wealthy man. His home was an opulent, yet tastefully decorated, house by the ocean, near Rosarita Beach. This cheap-looking studio was a place to do his work undisturbed. He owned the building.
Fiction Saturday
Chapter Thirty-Two
The cab was festooned with bobble-head dolls of Elvis, The Beatles, and Ricky Martin. The Virgin Mary held the place of honor in the center of the dashboard. Red and gold dingleballs circled every window and lying on the rear window deck was a three-foot-long crucifix.
The cab driver, dressed in a crisp yellow shirt, was doing his standard sales pitch to yet another pair of Yanqui tourists.
“Buenas dias. Let Tomás be your guide for the day. Only two hundred dollars—well worth the price. Tomás knows all the best restaurants and shops. And I can get you the best seats for the bullfights. My cousin is a matador. Deal, okay? Best price in Tijuana.” His accent made him sound like a parody of Cheech and Chong.
Davis looked at Laura, who was still holding the brochure outlining the benefits of membership in the San Diego Skyscrapers. She shook her head. This was a business trip.
“No, not today,” said Laura. “Just drop us up on the main drag. Maybe next time we’ll get the tour. Okay?”
“Okay, you the boss, but, I can show you where to get genuine Armani suits for three hundred dollars, with free alterations. Best price in Tijuana.”
“Another time, my friend,” said Davis.
Laura pulled a piece of paper from her pocket.
“Say, do you know any good photographers?” asked Laura.
I’M A SOCIABLE PERSON. I’VE MET A LOT OF PEOPLE OVER THE YEARS. I just can’t remember who they are sometimes. A lot of times. OK, my own mother wore a name tag until I was 12.
Satisfied?
Last week I was in my usual spot at St. Arbucks having my morning coffee and being sociable with The Usual Suspects, whatever their names are. I had just picked up my free refill and returned to my chair. It was then that everything began to come apart at the seams.
WORDS. I’M A BIG FAN OF WORDS. I USE THEM EVERY DAY. Without words I would be speechless. The only people I know who don’t like words are Mimes – and we all know how loved they are.
(Advice: Never stand next to a Mime. You might end up as collateral damage or, even worse, you might get stuck inside that invisible box that all Mimes seem to have.)
NOT LONG AGO SOMEONE ASKED ME who I thought was the best writer. Of course, that is an impossible question to answer – even if you are going for just one man’s opinion. A question like that is like asking who is the prettiest woman, or what is the best tasting thing to have for dinner.
Talk about your subjective questions. Sheesh!
I FOUND MYSELF INVOLVED IN SOMETHING YESTERDAY. Something I rarely do anymore. I had an adult conversation with one of the Usual Suspects at St. Arbucks. The “Usual Suspects” (I’ve written about them before) are a group of folks who tend to congregate for coffee at the nearby Starbucks.
On many mornings there might be 6 or 7 of us huddled in the corner chatting about…well, you see, that’s the problem. The Topic du Jour might be Sports, Grandchildren, What’s on TV, What’s no longer on TV, or the general state of the world in contrast to the way it all was when we still had hair and no artificial knees or hips. Straight out Politics is rarely discussed – it tends to raise blood pressure and some of these people are already wearing Pacemakers.
Yesterday morning was different – at least I thought it was for awhile.
WELL, I REALLY DID IT TODAY – put myself behind the 8 Ball, slammed the door on my toes, and painted myself into a corner. Yup, I left home this morning without my phone.
I have become so plugged into that thing that without it I feel like I’m sitting alone in an empty room, with the lights out, the shades pulled down, wearing a blindfold, and with earplugs screwed two inches deep into my head.
I ADMIT IT – I’M GETTING OLD. No, check that – I am old, but I’m not dead. I am still mildly aware of the world around me even if the world doesn’t always return the favor.
This morning I find myself in Dearborn, Michigan. My wife, the lovely and semi-vertical somnambulist, Dawn, and I are here for an annual church convention. Because things are kicking off early, convention-wise, we are both up early slouching toward consciousness.
I WAS JUST LOOKING AT THE LIST of the most popular names for newborn babies in 2014. For 2015 I assume we won’t know for a while what names will make the Top Ten.
When I first saw the list of girl’s names I was struck by how “traditional” and even 19th century many of them seemed.
Down the Hall on Your Left 