There has never been a culture or a time that mankind has not put importance on the name one will carry throughout life. Indeed, in many cultures, names are believed to possess mystical properties and to be tools of power. Even in our enlightened times a person will change what he perceives to be a weak name into one of strength. For a nominal fee and a wave of a judge’s magical gavel, Hermie Fugsticker can be transformed into Rock Stonewall…or something similar.

In the relatively modern Age of Aquarius sixties, people practiced giving names to their children reflecting that era of love and peace. This sometimes proved to be unfortunate after the child grew up. I have often wondered if my neighbor’s name, Acapulco Gold, is the reason few employers follow up on his resume..

Today, people are in too much of a hurry to want to wrap their mouths around titles of more than three syllables. Even names like Barbara, Maxine, and Pygmalion gets cropped to Babs, Max and Pig. This has pretty much brought an end to the names that once so vividly described the true persona of a human…for example like Moon Doggy.

At what point did this practice of short and sweet start? In my mind I always felt that the scenario went something like this…

…In a primitive setting of long eons ago, a child was born. The toothless midwife handed the newborn to the father. He lifted the child above his head so all the tribe’s people could see it and announced, “This is my daughter who shall be named BRIGHT FIRST LIGHT OF DAY AFTER LONG COLD NIGHT.”

The exhausted mother had managed to prop herself up on one elbow and tugged at her man’s reindeer skin pants leg. “Uh. How about if we call her Dawn?”

“Dawn????” The father was dumbfounded.

“Yes! Dawn! It means the exact same thing that you said. ” The mother snapped. “If I have go to the door of the cave to call ‘Bright First Light Of Day After Long Cold Night’, for lunch, it will be suppertime before I get the job done.”

“But…Dawn seems so…well, short.” The father stuttered. “How about naming her after my mother?”

“Name my daughter ‘Face That Curdles Milk’? I don’t think so.” The mother’s brows came together in one long unibrow when she snarled. “Her name is Dawn!”

Defeated, the father turned again to the tribe’s people to announce the NEW name of his child.

The old midwife turned to the mother and said. “Boy, you one smart woman. Wish I had thought of that when my son, ‘Early Born Boy When Cave Bear Scared the Crap Out Of His Mother’, was born. Could have called him Earl.”

The End