The World According To Anne Arky

Now I think namesaking is a fine thing. It perpetuates a family history of sorts, and it honors the old farts of the family. (If you’re lucky, it might even get you in the will. I have known people who were given some really god-awful names for just that reason.) I even think naming a girl after her father is very sweet, especially since little girls have such a tendency to be “Daddy’s Girl”s. We all know them – Stephanie, daughter of Stephen; Roberta, daughter of Robert; Donna, daughter of Donald; Michaela, daughter of Michael (although illiterate bandwagon jumpers would have you to believe it’s spelled “Mikayla”, the name actually pronounced that way is just plain old Michael with an “a”), etc.

Some of the more unusual feminized men’s names can sound pretty, and even kind of exotic. I knew a Nedra and a Kendra when I was in high school, and there is an author named Phillipa (although I think I would be inclined just to stick with the tried and true Phyllis if it were me). Patty Duke’s “Valley of the Dolls” character Neely O’Hara may have been a feminine derivative of Neil or Neal; whatever it is, I’ve always thought it was pretty. I’ve run across a Davida or two along the way, and in my opinion, Norma is a much nicer name than her masculine equivalent Norman (but that’s just me). I also like Erica better than her male counterpart, Eric. I’ll take Olivia over Oliver any day of the week.

But you really have to be careful in this naming the daughter after her father, grandfather, uncle, etc. Let’s face it – some masculine names were just never meant to be feminized, no way, no how. I have been collecting these for years, and they range from the unusual to the obscenely dreadful. In the last year, my collection of non-feminizable (you ought to try getting that one past the spell checker) masculine names has virtually exploded. In the past two months alone, I have come up with some seriously bad ones: Arthralyne (daughter of Arthur) and Chesterine (presumably daughter of Chester). The earliest contenders (from my Way Back machine) include Cliffogene (friend of a friend from college, who swears she actually knew two people by that name) and Billyetta (friend of a friend from West Virginia, whose own daughter was named Harrietta – no, not Harriett, but Harrietta). More recent live entries are Bensonetta (a judge in Atlanta), Overtis (daughter of Otis), Herma (Herman’s daughter), Hughina (Hugh’s little girl), Jamesia (“jahMEE-SEEa”) (hard to say if she’s the apple of James’ eye or named for a hydrangea bush) and Doneva (a former coworker of my sister’s and undoubtedly daughter or granddaughter of Donald). Friends have contributed some doozies, too – Winshinai and Winbrielle, twin daughters of Winston; Noelani, daughter of Noel (and maybe Annie, I don’t know); Floydeen, daughter of Floyd (“Pink” might have been an option, and she still would have been named after her dad – sort of); and Willisa, daughter of Willis. Some that I have culled from on-line obituaries while reading them to keep up with friends and their families have been Calvalyn (daughter of Calvin and Minerva, of all things!), Archenia and Fredella. [I am sure there is a special front-row spit in hell for people like me who can’t help but laugh at the names of people I find in obituaries – the dead, their forebears or their survivors.] I once knew Marvin's daughter Marvina, and I even have an ancestor Melvina, who was Melvin's daughter (who else could she be?!).

At the bookstore where I work, an expectant couple were purchasing a baby name book that they were apparently only moments away from putting to use, and because I had just learned of Arthralyne, I cautioned them to consider very carefully naming their daughter after a favored male relative. I urged them to use mercy wherever feasible and consider the possible ghastly results. They looked at each other and, in unison, cried, “Bobwina!” We all got a good laugh out of it, but sadly enough, I surfed the net the very next day and found one – a real live (now dead) Bobwina, who I found in an obituary in a faraway place I had never heard of and don’t even remember. Let me hasten to say that these can’t be written off as just “ethnic” names from some other “ethnic” than any of us might be – I’ve seen them in all flavors, all ages.

When one of my coworkers was debating what to name her unexpected blessed event-to-be (it’s a second marriage for both, and both had kids from their first), she decided she didn’t really want to name it (whatever it might be) after its father, because she wasn’t really crazy about his name (Walter). [With apologies to all you Walter people out there. She said it, I didn’t.] I asked her what his middle name is, and she said it’s DeLande. (Don’t ask me – I just work here.) In about two seconds, I came up with and suggested twisting DeLande into Delaney, and she came back the next day and said that whatever it is, boy or girl, it will be named Delaney. And so she was – named Delaney, that is. I asked my coworker recently (five years after the fact) if she wasn’t sorry that she hadn’t named the little princess Waltrina. I don’t know why she threw that stapler at me. Go figure!

What’s next? Herschellana? Wendella? Joshaletta? Jasonina? Gordonia? Matthewla? Warrenita? Dextrose (daughter of Dexter and Rose)? Reubencia? Bufordessa?

If your spouse or family member gets really insistent about namesaking, just say, “You get to name the dogs, I get to name the kids.” Not everybody has a namesake (not everybody should), and sometimes you might just have to suck it up and get over it. If you are considering what to name your (or someone else’s) little girl and you think you want to name her after her father or yours, be kind – be merciful – and just name her Daddy or Gramps and be done with it.

Labels: Names