16. What's in a Name?

Kind of a dumb question, especially considering that, due to their names, Romeo killed his cousin, was banished, then Juliet faked her death, then Romeo kills himself then Juliet kills herself for real. None of this would have happened if Romeo’s last name had been Johnson [aside: Romeo Johnson might be my new stage name]. Things might have worked out between these two (I still would only give them three years, tops).

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Not true. As I have often and disgustingly argued, if roses were known as “poop-sticks,” “i-hate-you’s” or “baby-rapes,” you would not give them to your lover. The smell of a dozen baby-rapes would not evoke the amorous sighs of the beloved other. You would get yourself dumped. Hard.

This is to say A LOT is in a name. For our lovers, Capulet and Montague were their class, lineage, position and crossed stars. Entire biblical histories of begats are embodied in these written and spoken symbols by which we identify ourselves. Our names have weight and meaning and force.

I bring this up because every day I stare at unbelievably long lists of names. I probably write out five or six hundred individual names by hand every shift. If someone gives the name Jennifer or David, I always ask for a last initial because the odds are extremely high that I’ll get another before the first is called. My job is based on names and the remnants of one of my shifts consist of pages and crumpled pages of scribbled out names.

It sometimes occurs to me that all these names, at some point, meant something literal. Native folk had literal names- Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, etc. We do too, only our original languages are lost to us. According to the Oxford Dictionary of Names, my name literally means “Gift-Of-God, Bright-Sea, Long-Tall-Stone.” I have considered introducing myself as this at parties. Stephen and Mary and Benjamin and Alice, these have as much literal meaning as words and are not just telephone numbers to which our souls are assigned. Your parents most likely considered the meaning of your name when they named you or they named you after someone important to them. This also constitutes a hereditary species of meaning.

Other people make up their own name. My friend Quail Dawning (which is a pretty fantastic name to begin with) changed it to Olivia Pepper. Another friend legally renamed herself Jenna Jack-o-Lantern. Whoa. In my time, I have known people named Lunchbox, Lazer, Frogg, Rainblo, Crazyglue, The River Euphrates. Celebrities these days are going absolutely bananas over weird names. Here, briefly, is a sampling: Apple, Princess Tiaamii, Audio Science, Aurelius Cy, Blue Angel, Bluebell Madonna, Diezel, Fifi Trixibell, Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily, Jazz Domino, Jermajesty, Kal-El Coppola, Kyd, Luna Coco, Moon Unit, Dweezil, Diva Muffin, Moxie CrimeFighter, Pilot Inspektor, Poppy Honey, Rocket, Rufus Tiger, Sage Moonblood, Seven Sirius, Zola Ivy… the list goes on FOREVER.

There is a man in Ireland who has renamed himself every James Bond movie. His name (legally) is “James Dr No From Russia with Love Goldfinger Thunderball You Only Live Twice On Her Majesty's Secret Service Diamonds Are Forever Live and Let Die The Man with the Golden Gun The Spy Who Loved Me Moonraker For Your Eyes Only Octopussy A View to a Kill The Living Daylights Licence to Kill Golden Eye Tomorrow Never Dies The World Is Not Enough Die Another Day Casino Royale Bond.” There is a Swedish kid named who is actually named “Brfxxccxxmnpcccclllmmnprxvclmnckssqlbb11116,” which is pronounced “Albin.” There is an English football fan named “John Portsmouth Football Club Westwood” and an ex-politician from Tennessee named “Byron Low Tax Looper,” who is now in jail for murder. Pedro V, King of Portugal’s full name was “Pedro de Alcântara Maria Fernando Miguel Rafael Gonzaga Xavier João António Leopoldo Vítor Francisco de Assis Júlio Amélio de Saxe-Coburgo-Gotha e Bragança.” He was so beloved a king that when he died, his people actually revolted. And of course, there is Dick Assman, the Canadian gas station owner.

So I man the host’s stand like St. Peter at the gates, transcribing names like David, Stephen, Amanda, Nick, Gina, Robert, Tiffany, Sarah, Paul, Donnie and so on… although what I’m really writing is Beloved, Crown, Worthy-of-Love, Victory-of-the-People, Queen, Bright-Fame, Manefestation-of-God, Princess, Humility, Ruler-of-the-World; a strange, high-worded poetry of what our forebears saw or hoped they saw in their children.

The day before yesterday, a man walked up and asked to add his name to the list. He gave my name. Although my name isn’t uncommon, it was a little startling to hear it and surreal to write it down at work. Amongst all the other names, it stood out when I looked down. And after 45 minutes, I called my own name and led myself back into Zemblanity.