I was trying to leave this one alone, folks. I really was. I was trying to turn my head, turn off the sound, change the channel, not look at the Internet. But it was all laid out before me and I still couldn’t bring myself to stay quiet about it.
Are you kidding me?
The biggest parental morons on earth, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, naming their newest offspring Knox Leon. To go along with Pax (OMG) and Maddux. Those two parental idiots ought to be beaten over the heads with newspapers for doing that to those children. Maddux? OK, that’s not too horrible.
Pax? I beg you. Might as well have called him “Pox.” That poor child, how is he ever gonna overcome that name? And those idiots in Hollywood giving the Pitt-Jolies kudos for being so “creative” with the names.
Does everyone in Hollywood do crystal meth or what?
Now, the baby girl’s name, Vivienne Marcheline, is quite pretty. I will give them credit for that. But those insufferable names they have labeled the boys with ought to be outlawed. They really should face a hefty fine for parental abuse.
Lord have mercy.
I took some guff when I named my son “Canyon.” OK. There it is. That is what Sunnybuns is really called. My own grandmother chided me and said in her sweet little voice, “How can you name him something that isn’t even human?” She got used to it though, and liked that his middle name was MacGregor.
Another relative said, “Makes him sound like a law firm!”
Initially I was going to call him Michael Patrick. Nice, but a bit dull. He was to be called “Michael Pat” just cause I liked the way it sounded. Then I thought, “William Graydon” after Pop and my dad in-law. Then he would have been called “Billy Gray.” Of course, the kids at school would have called him “billygoat,” so that was out.
I laid in bed with this big heavin’ child in my belly and went down the list of names in my head, trying to come up with something that was unique, but not ridiculous.
Trust me, not once did “Pax” or “Knox” ever cross my mind.
Friends and other family members had their own ideas.
Ignatius. Angus. Timmy. Liam. Tristan. Rojo (for you folks that don’t speakadee Espanyol, that is pronounced “roe-hoe,” and it means red).
A friend of my stepson’s had three little boys: Jackson, Braxton and Paxton. The fourth little boy that came along was named Eddie. Whew.
Talked to a chick at WM and asked what her cute little baby boy’s name was.
“Wolf,” she replied.
I gave him a silent blessing, praying that he wouldn’t be cursed with that his whole life.
Another young mama with an equally adorable little sprout said she had named him “Shard.”
Kinda like Nicholas Cage in that movie “City of Angels” when Meg Ryan asks him his name and after glancing quickly around the room he says, “Plate...”
Now, some of the other names that I’ve come across are a little more creative than that.
Little girls named “Tequila,” “Shasta Daisy,” “Aquanetta (I kid you not)” “Vodkanette” “Anissette” … if it’s a liquor, you can use it. Like, for instance, Bailey (as in Irish Creme).
“Midori” (as in melon liqueur). “Chambord” (as in raspberry liqueur, and my grandmother’s favorite indulgence). “Frangelico:” (as in hazelnut liqueur. Mighty durn tasty, and not a bad name).
However, you don’t want to use beer names for your children.
Heinie. Bud. Colt. Sam Adams. Miller. Pabst.
I’m still having a hard time getting over Gwyneth Paltrow naming her daughter Apple. Does she really call her that? Try it. Just holler out “Apple!” and see how it feels. It’s weird, ain’t it? Or try calling out “Banana!” “Kiwi!” “Persimmon!”
See how silly that sounds?
I’m still waiting for someone to use an all-time favorite that gets passed over year after year.
It’s timeless. It’s classic. It’s unique.
It’s Jethro Bodine.
Gimme a hollah when you find one.