What's in a Name Redux

“You people have funny little nicknames for everybody.”

Thus, in the final episode of “Seinfeld,” did lawyer Jackie Chiles reference one of the on-going comedic conceits of this ever-popular sitcom – if you were a friend, lover or just a mere acquaintance of Jerry, George, Elaine or Kramer’s, chances are you’d get tagged with a name that described your profession (The Soup Nazi), social status (The O. Henry Candy Bar Heiress) or a pseudo-female body part (Mulva).

One storyline revolved around George’s efforts to take back his unique baby name (Seven), stolen by his fiancée’s expecting cousins, in exchange for another (Soda). Sounds crazy, doesn’t it, until you stop and consider what people are naming their kids nowadays.

The obvious perpetrators to drag through the mud are celebrities because, as we all know, it’s not hard enough to be the offspring of a beautiful, rich, narcissistic, paparazzi-hounded star, but you also need to lug around a name like Fifi Trixabelle Geldof (charity for millions, but not one drop for your own daughter, eh Bob?), Rumer, Scout and Tallulah Willis (what “Moore” could you expect from a mother named “Demi”) and, of course, Apple Rossdale (I always suspected Gwyneth Paltrow wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I never thought of her as cruel).

That, however, would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Nope, I’m gunning for less publicized, if not equally egregious, monikers in part two of “What’s in a Name.”

Antiques Belong on “The Roadshow”

Look in the back pages of my family history and you’ll turn up such names as Cecil, Aubrey, Myrtle, Olive, Harold and Sophia. Since these ancestors either were born in the 19^th or the dawn of the 20^th century, that’s to be expected. What’s disturbing is how these curios have become all the rage in the new millennium. In the past few months alone, I’ve heard of the birth of an Annabelle, an Isabella and a Ramona. I put it down to a current fascination with such authoresses as Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters. Thankfully, this trend seems to have bypassed boys. I haven’t run into any Heathcliffs or Darcys lately, but have heard of newly-minted Josephs and Andrews. What I take away from this is that parents want their boys to be doctors, lawyers or corporate chiefs, but prefer their daughters to be recluses, spinsters or residents of a god-forsaken English backwater.

It’s an Atlas, Not a Naming Book

Back when “The Sopranos” was all the rage, there was much speculation as to why Tony and Carmela’s oldest child, Meadow, was given such a non-Italiano name. One theory floated was that she was conceived at New Jersey’s Meadowlands, rumored burying ground of still MIA union leader Jimmy Hoffa. This would sound like a real stretch if I didn’t know people who began as zygotes in “Vienna” and “Paris.” It’s bad enough I have to know where their parents “did it,” but this kind of intimate information is why some kids spend years on a psychiatrist’s couch. Which brings me to a more expansive point: China is a nation. Brittany is a province in France. Dakota is the name of two of these United States. They’re destinations found on a map, not designations that should be found on a birth certificate.

“Uneek” is Just Plain Wrong

When they don’t have the nerve to go whole hog in the creative name game, some parents ensure their little ones will still stand out in the crowd by screwing around with spelling. Thus, we have Kloeys, Aimees, Justyns, Robyns, Danis, etc. As a writer, this cock-eyed practice makes me see red, not the least because my Mac’s spell check goes underline crazy. Another grammatical gaffe is dropping in improper punctuation like apostrophes and accent marks. Honestly, if you think other people are going to bother with an umlaut throughout your child’s long life, I got news for you -- it ain’t making it past kindergarten.

To end this two-part screed on a more positive note, the sanest approach to picking a baby name came my way from a former colleague, who was expecting his first child, a daughter. He and his wife picked three names they both liked. Once the bambina made her appearance, they waited and watched until the little Miss revealed the appropriate name to them. Remember, if you act in haste or bad taste, it’s your kid who will repent at leisure.