What’s in a name? A bunch of letters for one thing. Eons back, when I was a teenager with my friends, with nothing better to do one Summer day, we amused ourselves by looking up funny names in the Chicago phone book. We happened upon the last name on the last white page, the name of a person who lived on the west side of the city: Zyzzy Zzzyzyx (true). And you thought you had a weird name. Before smartphones, we were entertained by simple things. Then there are the even weirder names of celebrity children, probably started in the 1960s by Frank Zappa who named a daughter Moon Unit and a son, Dweezil. The list from other celebrities continues the tradition with Bronx, Blue Ivy, Lourdes, Puma, and Weasel Spit (I made up that last one).
It’s bad enough of naming a couple of your children absurdly, but what about your poor pets? Kids can change their names later if they don’t like them, but pets are stuck. If you were a dog, would you enjoy going through life with a handle such as, and these are actual names, Peanut Wigglebutt, Sir Hog Knucklehead, Sasha Bigglepotamus Pierce, Otto Von Longdog, or Airbubble McMuffun? Or a cat with a name such as Snuggles Butt Le Lee, Count Flufferton, Kamakazi Wino, Katy Purry, or Walter Croncat? Those last two aren’t half bad. My sister has a habit of giving grandiose tags to her pets. One of her cats was Augustus Tudball Van Dyke and a field mouse was Lulubelle Nutkin. My wife chose Hairy Houdini for our cat even though I preferred Jelloface, but that’s just me.
Speaking of names, after all my recent comments about Al Demeter Park just south of the Santori Library, it appears if it is an official park. The Park District is adding improvements to make it an even more desirable family destination. The previously installed asphalt path is now lighted as a guide for hikers and bikers to keep them from getting lost in the dark. There are small mounds of dirt with attractive little white flags waving gently in the breeze. And close by is, I’m guessing, a wonderful sledding hill for Winter sport. The other day I saw only one discarded half-pint bottle of Jim Beam near Al’s famous namesake rock. Just imagine the smile that must be on Al’s face as he looks down on the evolving park.
Since my Memorial Day column was military-themed and running longer than usual, I didn’t have room to do a shameless, self-promotional tie-in for my book, “The Militarized Zone: What Did You Do in the Army, Grandpa?” Fear not, for I now have the room. If you enjoyed that true slice of Army life, you can be treated to additional slices in my book. If you don’t want to buy it from Amazon or wherever in print or eBook form, although I can’t imagine why, it’s available at a local library. This is not fake news.
I thank you for your support. And if you have any names for me, please, I’d prefer not to hear them.