What's in a name? Apparently quite
a lot. Stevens are straightforward, Jerrys are usually funny, and Johns are
often anal retentive. We've all known kids who were teased mercilessly in
school for their ill-chosen appellations. Especially if you were named
something like Sylvester or Percival. Absolutely fine in Olympia. Not so good
if you lived in Appalachia.
Percival is not a good Appalachian
appellation.
So the world was abuzz awhile about
the new future King of England. I don't think they should call him a
"future king" by the way. It assumes too much. What if the future
doesn't work out? Maybe England finally pitches the monarchy. Or the little
blue-blooded bundle of joy decides he wants to pitch for the Kansas City
Royals.
Prince is more like it. But it
can't just be Prince. He has to have a name that he won't be formerly known as
too. The world went through this consternation quite recently when the new Pope
was choosing his papal moniker.
My friend Rick said we probably
shouldn't hope the prince will be named Travis. Even less should we hope for
Clint. Prince Clint. It does have a tough no-nonsense ring to it. Likewise I thought
we could rule out Bubba.
I guessed they'd dip into the
historic well. Like with Charles and William and Elizabeth II. Which meant
Edward, James, George, or Richard. I voted for Richard. Prince Rick sounded
cool. But it was George.
Personally, I was hoping for
Francis, like the Pope. With a Pope and a King both named Francis, my own
father's name would once again return to legitimacy. Didn’t happen though. Maybe
because people shorten Francis to Frank and Frank is another word for a French
guy.
Even with French fries the English
have a chip on their shoulder.
America, ya gotta love it.
No comments:
Post a Comment