Hello! My Name is…©

The naming of babies, according to psychology professor Dr. Cleveland Evans, has reached a new frontier. Parents seeking to distinguish their newborns from the herd have turned to canned food and footwear for inspiration. According to Dr. Evans, the following luckless toddlers will soon enter pre-school and get a foretaste of peer cruelty: DelMonte, Celica, Armani, Courvoisier, Darvon, ESPN, and Timberland, just to name a few. Not all such anomalies are commercial, as in the startling Unnecessary, Annex, and Syphilis. Talk about just learning to walk and already having to heft your parents’ baggage.

Dr. Evans’s professional sideline is called onomastics, the study of names and naming practices. According to Social Security Administration records, Jacob and Emily are the current favorites for American boys and girls. I happen to possess a name of consistent popularity: Michael, which rode the crest of favor for half a century. Emerging as number one in 1953, Michael took the title forty-three times through 1999, including a streak of thirty-five consecutive years, as though weaned on steroids and coached by John Wooden. Speaking of John, he dominated for the first twenty-five years of the last century. The years between 1925 and 1964 featured a tense scrum between Robert and James, with a few token titles falling to David. William, Christopher, and Jason? Perennial bridesmaids. For girls, the list has rotated democratically, at least since Mary was finally dethroned for good in 1961: Linda, Lisa, Jennifer, and Jessica each topped the list for roughly two presidential terms. But perhaps our yearning for uniqueness will finally introduce an era of parity. According to the SSA, “the names Kaitlin, Kaitlyn, Kaitlynn, Katelin, Katelyn, Katelynn, and Katlyn are considered separate names in our tables.”

My wife and I did not look to the top of the list for our choice before our son was born two years ago. We wanted something simple and distinct, conventional but lively, finally settling on Cole, which seems to serve him well.

But we envied people with the surname Jones, which must make the naming job so much easier. After all, what does not go with “Jones”? It’s the simple pedestal upon which one can forgivably place the most garish or outlandish vase. Deuteronomy Jones, Copernicus Jones, Deconstructionist Jones, Municipal Gasworks Jones. Who can forget Basketball Jones? These locutions all seem to destine the bearer to, if not greatness, then at least a decent job as a guitarist in a backup band.

Minnesotans, a notoriously cautious lot, seem unlikely to dive into this strange confluence of commerce and christening, but the possibilities are rife. For boys, nothing would indicate strength, integrity, and something vaguely exotic better than Zamboni, that great healer of ice rinks. I would certainly put a resumé submitted by someone named Zamboni Olson at the top of the pile. For girls, Hazelden speaks volumes about patience, nurturing, and wisdom, and folds easily into an inconspicuous nickname: Hazelden “Hazel” Paxil Rolvaag, life coach. In the near future, don’t be surprised to hear that Flonase, Rapala, Cinnabon, MPR, Polaris, Menard, and eventually Ikea, have been enrolled in your company’s daycare center.